


Floating Petals

by Iwanttobeawitchlalala



Category: Captain America (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bisexual James Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Crossover, F/F, Fem Harry Potter - Freeform, M/M, Multi, soulmate fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29305509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwanttobeawitchlalala/pseuds/Iwanttobeawitchlalala
Summary: Aletris Lily Jamie Potter sat on her bed at the Dursleys and looked at her arm with a sigh and traced a gentle finger over the names. On her right wrist, she had two soulmarks. Two! She wasn’t really surprised- if nothing else in her life could be normal why would she expect this to be?- but she didn’t know of anyone who had more than one.‘Steven Grant Rogers’ was written in a small, red and blue loopy handwriting, with white weaving throughout it.James Buchanan Barnes’ with light blue, blocky letters spelling out the name.~~~There, the familiar soulmark was on the inside of his right wrist. The name ‘Steven Grant Rogers’ was written in red white and blue loopy handwriting. But what was surprising was that there was a second name.‘Aletris Lily Jamie Potter’It was in a vivid green ink and was written with a scrawled, slanted cursive with tiny stars over the i’s.Face claim for Aletris- Priyanka Chopra, as she looked in the show Quantico, if you can imagine her in her teens
Relationships: Ginny Weasley/?, Harry Potter/James Buchanan Barnes/Steve Rogers, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts
Comments: 60
Kudos: 358





	1. Chapter 1

Aletris Lily Jamie Potter sat on her bed at the Dursleys and looked at her arm with a sigh and traced a gentle finger over the names. On her right wrist, she had two soulmarks. Two! She wasn’t really surprised- if nothing else in her life could be normal why would she expect this to be?- but she didn’t know of anyone who had more than one. 

‘Steven Grant Rogers’ was written in a small, red and blue loopy handwriting, with white weaving throughout it. 

James Buchanan Barnes’ with light blue, blocky letters spelling out the name. 

They had arrived late yesterday night, on her birthday, as she was sleeping. She only noticed them today. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a banging on the door and her aunt snapping, “Girl! Make lunch for your cousin!” 

She sighed and stood, going to her bureau and grabbing her one of her long sleeve shirts. She had to keep the names hidden, or her relatives would use it as one more thing to attack about her. She pulled the long sleeved shirt over her head and then left the room. She went downstairs to the kitchen to find Dudley sitting at the table with a Gameboy. 

He looked up and sneered at her, then returned his attention to his device. 

She got to work with an eye roll, making him several ham and cheese sandwiches, placing them on a plate for him along with a handful of crisps. She pulled a can of soda from the fridge and opened it, pouring it into a glass and setting it, along with the food, in front of Dudley at the table. He just grunted, before picking up the first sandwich and taking a big bite out of it. Aletris rolled her eyes again before turning to clean up. Right after she was finished putting the bread away, Aunt Petunia came into the room. She wore a terribly ugly blue and pink sundress white shoes. 

“Girl! I’m going out. I want you to leave the house and don’t come back until this evening at dinner,” she snapped with a glare. “And no funny business!” 

“Yes, Aunt Petunia,” Aletris said with an inward sigh. It was quite a warm day and she would have to spend the rest of it, the hottest part, outside. She shuffled out of the room, edging past her aunt, who shooed her faster. She went to her room to put on her shoes and grab a small pouch that held a bit of money that the Dursleys didn't know she had, before she left the house and started down the street, kicking at a pebble with a worn converse. She then got the idea and headed toward the Little Whinging Library, where she’d spent many days after being kicked out. She could at least figure out who Steven Grant Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes were. 

~~~

Steve Rogers stepped out of the shower with a sigh and grabbed the nearby towel, wrapping it around his waist. He padded barefoot into his bedroom and almost dropped the towel when he saw Bucky Barnes sitting in a chair in the corner of the large room. 

“Bucky? What are you doing in my room?” He asked as he went to his closet to dress. 

“We have a problem, Steve. Look,” he said, having followed the blonde. He pulled up the sleeve of his long-sleeve tee and thrust his wrist out for Steve to see. There, the familiar soulmark was on the inside of his right wrist. The name ‘ _Steven Grant Rogers_ ’ was written in red white and blue loopy handwriting. But what was surprising was that there was a second name. 

‘ _Aletris Lily Jamie Potter_ ’

It was in a vivid green ink and was written with a scrawled, slanted cursive with tiny stars over the i’s. 

Steve stared at the new name, then twisted his arm to look at his marks on the inside of his elbow. Sure enough, matching green writing was on his arm under the light blue ‘ _James Buchanan Barnes_ ’. “We have a new soulmate?” He said, shocked. It had been nearly a century since Bucky’s name appeared on his arm, and now, there was a new name. It was surprising. 

“Seems like it,” Bucky said with a sharp nod. “What are we supposed to do now?” 

“I think we should call a team meeting and inform everyone. Maybe Tony can use his tech stuff to find her, and we can go from there.” Steve said, thoughts going crazy. He turned his mind off and turned again to get dressed. 

An hour later, everyone but Tony were in the conference room. Tony finally stepped out of the elevator looking ruffled and a bit worse for wear, and Steve could have sworn he saw a bit of foam in his hair. “What was so urgent, Capcycle? I was _busy_ ,” he said as he flopped into a swivel chair, clasping his hands behind his head and propping his feet in the table in front of him. 

“Bucky and I have news,” Steve said with a glare at Tony. 

“I don’t think guys can have babies. Not even with today’s tech. You probably just have digestion issues, should probably see a doctor if it’s that bad. Sorry guys,” Tony said with false sympathy. Clint snickered. 

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed deeply before continuing. “That’s… whatever. We have another soulmate.” That made everyone serious in a split second. 

“What?” Clint asked, amazed and shocked. No one had had more than one soulmate for decades. It was incredibly rare. 

“What’s the name? Do you know them?” Tony sat up in his chair, feet landing on the floor with a thump.

“No, we don’t know them. The name is Aletris Lily Jamie Potter.” 

“When did it arrive?” Natasha asked. 

“Yesterday evening,” Bucky answered. 

“Ha! Your new soulmate is 15,” Clint said with a laugh. Natasha smacked him on the back of his head as the super soldiers looked uncomfortable. He pouted. 

“JARVIS, do your thing,” Tony said, leaning back in his chair. 

“Already working on it, sir,” the smooth British voice belonging to the AI said. A moment later, he said, “I found only one girl of that name. Shall I put the results on the holograph table*?”

“Yeah, thanks J.” 

A few images appeared over the table, and Tony gathered them and hurled them like a baseball at the blank wall opposite. There was a photo and a few other documents. The photo, which looked to be a school issued one, showed a girl of about 10. She had long thick, wavy black hair, which was messy, clear light brown skin, and delicate features- a small cute nose, pale rose coloured lips, high cheekbones. But her most prominent feature was her eyes, which were even brighter green than the colour of her name on Steve and Bucky’s arms. They were framed by thick, inky lashes, and covered by a pair of large round wire-rimmed glasses. Her face and eyes both held a cold, determined look that they all recognised in themselves. Her jaw was set and she wasn’t smiling. She looked intense and Steve and Bucky couldn’t look away from her. 

“Is that the most recent photo of her?” Natasha asked with a strange tone in her voice. 

“It is,” Jarvis confirmed. “She has minimal records up until she was about ten years od age, only school records and a couple hospital visits for injuries. After she turned 11, though, all traces of her disappeared. She vanished for 10 or 11 months out of each year, only reappearing during July and August.” 

“That’s strange,” Clint said thoughtfully. “So there are no traces of where she goes at all in those months?” 

“There is not, Mr. Barton,” the AI said. 

“She could be a threat. HYDRA, or another organisation,” Natasha spoke what no one else wanted to say. 

“She’s only 15,” Steve protested. 

“She disappeared at an age of easy manipulation. The KGB recruited me at the age of 10, too. It’s a perfect age to recruit someone and mold them into a child weapon.” 

“Natasha has a point,” Tony said. “There is a chance she could be a threat. We need to proceed carefully.” 

“There is no way that they could have known that she would be our soulmate,” Steve argued, even though he knew that they could be right. “It could be a coincidence.” 

“No such thing,” Clint said. 

“Let’s discuss what to do, and act as soon as possible. We won’t harm her, okay?” Bruce spoke for the first time. “But if she is an agent for some organisation, we have to be prepared to do what is needed.” 

Everyone agreed with him and so they hunkered down and started talking about what to do. 


	2. Chapter 2

_ (A few days later, after the attack of dementors)  _

_ ~~~ _

Aletris sat with a sigh on the bed in her room at Grimmauld Place, and flopped back. She was exhausted from the last few days. With getting her soulmarks, thinking of it almost nonstop, then those dementors attacking her and Dudley. Then being blamed for it by him and then getting the letters and then being introduced to the Order and it’s headquarters, as well as the fight with her friends. She was drained, emotionally and physically, and didn’t know what to do. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door. She sighed and stood up, crossing the room to the door. She opened it and smiled. 

“Hey, Sirius,” she said, stepping aside so he could come in. 

“Hey, Ali.” He smiled softly at her. 

“What’s up?” He stepped into the room and she closed the door. They both sat on the bed. 

“I just wanted to talk,” he said. “I know we haven’t really seen much of each other since you got here, I’m sorry for that.” 

“It’s okay. I know you're busy.” 

“That’s no excuse,” he sighed. “You're my goddaughter. I should make time for you.” After a pause, where she just looked at the floor and shrugged, he cleared his throat and spoke again. “So, you turned 15. You got your soulmarks, huh?” 

“Yeah,” she said softly. She rolled up her sleeve and showed them to him. He sucked in a sharp breath and Aletris looked at him. He was staring at the names with shock and a bit of worry. “You know who they are, too?” She asked. 

“Yeah,” he breathed. “I spent quite a bit of time in the Muggle world when I was on the run. I recognise the names. There’s no chance they’re anyone else?” 

“I did hours of research and couldn’t find anyone else by those names. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I got both those names. It would be a really weird work of Fate if I got different people by the names. And I don’t think Fate would ever let me have  _ normal  _ soulmates.” She sighed. 

Sirius would have laughed at that if it wasn’t so true. “What are you going to do?” 

‘I can’t do anything, Pads,” she said. “They’re muggles, no matter how unusual they are. They’d be perfect targets for Voldemort. I have to hide my marks, and no one else can see them.” 

“Are you sure?” He said, knowing the gravity of the situation. “It would mean rejecting them if they find you, at least before the end of the war. It would mean subjecting yourself to a lot of pain.” 

“I think that it would be more painful if they were killed, Siri,” she said quietly, placing her head on his shoulder. 

“Then I’ll look through the Black libraries and try to find a spell to do that. Until then, keep your wrist covered, don’t show it to anyone, and be careful,” he said sadly. He hated what that bastard of a Dark Lord was doing to his little goddaughter’s life. He hated him with a vengeance and if he could, would gladly die to stop it. His goddaughter didn’t deserve all this stress and fear and sadness. For Merlin’s sake, she was talking about hiding her soulmarks, of rejecting her mates if they found her, of being willing to cause herself unspeakable pain because of that son of a bitch. 

“I will. Thank you, Padfoot,” she said, sitting up straight and pecking his cheek. 

“Anything for you, kiddo. Anything for you.”

~~~

Steve paced agitatedly across the common room, watched by the others of his team. They had just recently gotten back from Surrey, England, where they had planned on meeting and talking to Aletris Potter about their soulmates. It did not go as planned. 

**Flashback**

_ The team had decided, after a lot of debating, to go to England and talk to Aletris. They wanted to assess if she was a threat, or if she was just a normal teenager- who disappeared off every corner of the world that has technology for most of the year. So, Steve, Bucky, and Natasha had piled onto the Quinjet and flown to Stark Tower, London, while Tony, Clint and Bruce stayed behind, so as to not overwhelm the girl. From there, they drove to Surrey, to Aletris’ relatives- the Dursleys- house.  _

_ At the Dursleys, they got out of the SUV and walked up to the front door. Steve took a deep breath and knocked.  _

_ A moment later, the door was open by a horse faced lady, who wore a dark purple dress and black shoes. They recognised her as Petunia Dursley nee Evans, aunt and guardian of Aletris. “Yes? How may I help you?” She said in a disgustingly sugary voice, smiling sweetly.  _

_ “Good afternoon, Ma`am. We’re here to speak to Aletris Potter,” Steve said politely.  _

_ Immediately the woman’s horse-like face contorted with distaste. “What for? Did the girl cause trouble? I apologize for whatever she did, she’s a bit… unstable.”  _

_ “No, ma`am. We just want to ask her a few questions,” Steve said with a frown. He did not like the tone with which this woman talked about his soulmate.  _

_ “Oh.” She sounded almost disappointed. “Well, she isn’t here. She left last night. I don’t know where she is. Good day.” The woman rattled it out quickly and almost closed the door in their faces; only, Natasha caught it with her foot, pushing the door open with force. Mrs. Dursley gasped indignantly as they entered. “Excuse me! This is highly illegal! I will have the lot of you arrested!”  _

_ “Whatever, lady,” Natasha said. “Answer our questions and we’ll be out of your hair.”  _

_ “Why? What do you want with the girl?” Mrs. Dursley snapped. She crossed her arms over her chest and sneered at them.  _

_ “Where is she, and why does she disappear for months at a time every year?” Natasha snapped back.  _

_ “I don’t know where she is, she disappeared last night when we were out.”  _

_ “Do you know where she might have gone to?” Steve asked this.  _

_ “She has some…  _ **_friends._ ** _ She probably went to stay with them after-” Mrs. Dursley cut herself off.  _

_ “After what?” Bucky inquired. He had a bad feeling about this woman. She was not a nice person, and the way she talked about Aletris ticked him off.  _

_ “None of your business.” She snarled.  _

_ “Fine.” Natasha was glaring hard at the horse faced woman. “What about my second question?”  _

_ “She goes to a school for freaks. That’s all I’ll say, you can’t make me tell you any more. For 10 months out of the year, I’m free of her, so I don’t appreciate you barging in here, bringing the freak up-”  _

_ She was cut off this time by a low, animalistic growl from Bucky. Her eyes widened in fear and she gulped. Bucky took a step forward and she whimpered, and Steve grabbed his arm, and with one last glare at Mrs. Dursley, he pulled his soulmate out of the house. Natasha sneered at the horrible woman, and followed them, throwing a sneer over her shoulder at Mrs. Dursley.  _

_ They all got in the car, and the driver started it and pulled out of the driveway, and Bucky spoke.  _

_ “Man, I hate that woman. I just want to…” he mimed strangling her, and Natasha snorted. Steve winced.  _

_ “What do you think she meant by ‘school for freaks’?” Natasha said after they drove in silence for a while.  _

_ Steve and Bucky thought about that. “Maybe she’s a mutant?” Steve said pensively. “She could go to some sort of school for mutants.”  _

_ “If she was a mutant, I am 99% positive SHIELD would have a file on her.” Natasha pursed her lips. “It’s nearly impossible for a mutant to slip past our intelligence. And a school for them would be directly in the Director’s eyesight, so to speak.”  _

_ “That’s true,” Bucky said, brows furrowed. “But it would be possible to have a school for them if there was no technology whatsoever, and no documentation for it. And if she had a power that would be easy to hide or she never used it, she’d be able to escape SHIELD’s view.”  _

_ Natasha was looking worried, and she shifted in her seat. “That’s true,” she said thoughtfully. “But if there is a school for mutants that we don't know of, what are they teaching the students and why go to such lengths to hide it?”  _

**End of flashback**

They had driven back to Stark Tower, London, and then flown home, where they’d explained the situation to the other team members. Now they were in an argument over how to proceed. 

“I still think that we should contact Fury and inform him of this,” Clint said for the third time. 

“We do not need to bring him into it yet!” Steve said frustratedly. 

“What if this school she’s a part of is training some sort of mutant army? What if it’s a HYDRA organisation, or something. This could be vital information!” Natasha argued. 

“Why are you suddenly jumping to the conclusion that she’s a mutant? Just because her aunt- who sounds like a real piece of work, BTW- says it’s a school for freaks doesn’t automatically read as mutants.” Tony sat on an armchair, legs thrown over the arm, throwing blueberries into the air and catching them with his mouth. “I say we should investigate this further before bringing Patchy the Pirate into this.” 

Steve blinked dumbly at Tony, confused about the reference, then shook his head and continued pacing. “I never thought I’d say this, but I agree with Tony. Aletris’ aunt did not seem like a very nice person, and she could have been referring to any number of things about Aletris that she didn’t like. There is no need to bring Director Fury into this.” 

“No need to bring me into what?” The elevator doors had just slid open, revealing the man of the hour, Nickolas Fury himself. 

“JARVIS!!!” Tony shot up from where he was lounging. “What did I tell you about allowing One Eyed Willy into the building without approval from me!?”

“I’m sorry, sir, my systems were overridden,” the AI said apologetically. 

“DAMN IT!” Tony kicked the leg of the end table. “Oh, ow, ow, ow.” He said, clutching his foot and hopping on the other. Natasha rolled her eyes and slapped the back of his head. He stopped hopping in place to glare at her, then flopped into the armchair again, pouting childishly. 

“Well?” the Director said, ignoring Tony’s dramatics. 

Steve sighed and ran a hand through his military cut, blonde hair. “Bucky and I have recently received another soulmark,” he said reluctantly. “We found some discrepancies in her past and there is a lack of information on her in any database, not even school records. She has been regularly disappearing without a trace for 10 months or so out of each year since she was 11. Some of us are worried she might be a threat or part of an organisation that is a threat. We visited her home, in hopes of meeting her, but her aunt said that she had disappeared a few days ago. When asked why she keeps disappearing, her aunt and guardian said she went to a ‘school for freaks’.” 

As Steve was speaking, something about the intensity of which Fury was looking and listening to him made the super soldier unnerved. Then he spoke, and he sounded wary and worried. “What is the name?” He said. 

“Aletris Lily Jamie Potter,” Bucky answered. Fury grimaced and closed his good eye for a moment. “You know the name?” The former assassin nearly growled. “What do you know of her?”

“I know that she is not a threat. I know what school she goes to, and I know that looking into these things will bring you all only trouble. Wait until she is ready, and she’ll approach you. You will not be able to find her until then, though.” 

“Why not?” Natasha said sharply. 

“That’s not for me to say. What I will tell you, however, is that while she is dangerous, she is not a threat or part of an organisation that is. My contacts that know her tell me she is a good person.” Fury turned on his heel and walked back to the elevator. “Do not search for her, though. Like I said, it will bring you trouble and danger, the type not even you are not prepared to face.” With that, the elevator doors closed and they were left alone. 

“Are we actually doing what he said?” Tony asked after a moment. 

“No,” Bucky answered simply. 

Steve nodded in agreement. “I have a feeling that if looking for her will bring us trouble and danger, she is in just as much or more danger, which means she will need our help.” 

“Agreed,” Tony said. “JARVIS, keep scanning every system for mentions of her, and keep facial recognition tabs on all the security cameras in Britain for traces of her.” 

Natasha spoke up. “Clint and I will use our spy skills to find out all we can about her. If there is no digital mention or file of her in SHIELD’s system, there might be a paper file, if Fury knows about her. If there is even a post-it note on her, we’ll find it.” 

Clint nodded once. “Other than that, there is not much we can do to find her,” he said. “I think, until we do, that we should go about our business as usual. Bad guys don’t stop being bad for our convenience.” 

“Agreed,” Steve said with a sigh. He hoped this worked. While he had faith in his teammates and friends, he didn’t know that much about modern technologie, despite Tony’s efforts of teaching him about it. 

Bucky clapped him on the shoulder and sighed. “I’m sure we’ll find her, and when we do, we’ll do everything we can to make sure she’s safe,” he said softly as the others started to leave the room. 

“I hope you’re right, Buck,” he whispered back. “I really hope you’re right.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated! Subscribe if you enjoyed and want more!!!  
> Also, check out my other fanfics!


	3. Chapter 3

Aletris was having a tense conversation with Ron and Hermione. While she was trying to forgive the duo for not writing over the last month, she was still bitter that they were able to have fun with each other and were able to stay with Aletris’ godfather, while she herself was cooped up with her terrible family. 

She was glad for the interruption when Sirius came into the sitting room, where they were talking. “Ali, may I see you alone for a bit?” He asked, looking as serious as they’d ever seen him. 

She fought back a sigh of relief and nodded with a strained smile, standing and following the animagus out of the room, missing the hurt faces of her best friends. He led her to the library, where he shut and locked the door. Lowering himself into an uncomfortable looking seat, he gestured to the identical one beside himself, which she took. 

“Did you find something to hide the marks?” She asked quietly. He nodded and picked up a book from the low table between them, flipping it open to a page bookmarked with a slip of ripped parchment. 

“I could only find one that wasn’t dark or unsafe magic,” he said. “The _ Anima Clypeus, _ or Soul Shield, is a spell you place on some type of material, such as cloth or leather or something. You then place the material over the soulmark, or marks in your case, and it will be irremovable by anyone or any magic, besides the one who cast it, and/or the wearer.” 

“So no one would be able to remove it besides me and you?” she asked, leaning over to see the book. 

“Correct,” he said. “It hasn’t been used for a while, though. There are few who want to hide their soulmarks, as it is something of a badge of honor. It’s usually used as a non-harmful way for purebloods to hide that they have soulmates who aren’t pure or even magical at all.” 

“Well, at least I’m doing this for a good reason,” she said in distaste. She really was annoyed with this foolish blood purity sham. Honestly, the blood of a wizard from a long line of magicals would flow from a wound the same as a muggle who’s never had a magical relative. 

“That’s true,” he said with the same tone. “Do you want to get started, then?” 

“Sure,” she said. “What do we do first?” 

“Well, we need something that we can infuse with the spell. I was thinking some sort of bracelet or cuff. That way you don’t draw as much attention. I’m sure the Potter vaults have a few that we can use. We just need to get the goblins to give us permission to take from the main vaults, as you aren’t 17 yet.” 

“Vaults?” She said confusedly. “I only have the one, my trust.” 

“What?” He said, blinking at her in surprise. “Your parents left you as the sole heir of the full Potter estate, which means you’re going to be Lady Potter when you come of age. Didn’t you know this?” 

“I didn’t know there was a Potter estate,” she answered. “I thought they left me the trust vault and that was all there was, though it is a large amount of galleons.” 

“That’s nothing, kiddo, compared to the inheritance you’ll get when you’re of age. The Potter family, while not one of the Sacred 28, is one of the oldest families in Britain. You are the heir of all the lines, as you’re the last, so you inherit many properties, businesses, and a lot of money. You also are going to have seats on the Wizengamot,” Sirius explained. 

“Why didn’t I know any of this?” She asked worriedly. “It seems as though this is something I should be training for, as it seems like a huge responsibility. Shouldn’t someone have told me and started to prepare me for this.” 

“That’s a good question, and you’re right,” he said thoughtfully. “You usually would have started being taught by the head of the Potter House, your father, when you were about 5 or so, and I would have taken up that mantle if I’d been the one to raise you.” He paused sadly for a moment before moving on with a sigh. “But, since neither of those things happened, I assumed you’d be taught when you started Hogwarts. I don’t know why you weren’t.” 

He was quiet for a bit, then jumped up. “Come, we’ll go find out right now,” he said, snatching up her hand in his larger one and dragging her out of the room. He dragged her down the stairs, all the way to the kitchen, where the Order was getting ready for a meeting. Dumbledore sat at the head of the table, with Snape on one side, and Mad Eye on the other. Tonks, Kingsley, Remus the eldest two Weasley boys, Mr. Weasley, and several others were sitting around the table as Mrs. Weasleybustled around, setting out tea for people. 

“Sirius, my boy. You know Aletris is not permitted to be a part of these meetings,” Dumbledore said kindly yet sternly. 

“I know, Albus,” he snapped. “That’s not why she’s here.”

“Why then?” Molly cut in, glaring at the dark haired man, who was still gripping his goddaughter’s hand. 

“I am just wondering why the hell my goddaughter was never taught anything about her heirship or what her duties as head of the Potter Estate would be when she comes of age!” Sirius growled glaring at Dumbledore. Several of the order members looked at the elderly man, surprised. “And why she wasn't’ even aware she is set to inherit the full estate of the Potter House? She thought that all James and Lily had left her was the measly trust vault with her Hogwarts fund and pocket money,” he informed them, still glaring. 

“That is what you call  _ measly? _ ” Aletris cut in, looking at him with raised brows. 

“Compared to what you’ll inherit from me and your parents, yeah,” he said with a smirk. She gaped. “Oh, did I forget to mention that you’re my heir as well? I don’t plan on fathering any brats anytime soon, so, there you are.” She just stared at him with wide eyes. He snickered at the look. Dumbledore cleared his throat and their attention returned to the elder wizard. “Well?” Sirius snapped. 

Dumbledore sighed and stroked a long fingered hand through his long white beard. “I did not want to overwhelm her with politics and things like that. She is only a child, she should not have to worry about things adults can just as easily deal with,” he said with a grandfatherly look at the two. 

Sirius frowned. “I was learning these things when I was much younger than her. She will need to know those things for when she is ready to take up her Wizengamot seats. Plus, she’s going to need to know about how to make good investments and other things about running the estates she’s set to inherit. Are you crazy?” 

“She doesn’t actually need to know that,” interrupted a young man with a sneer. He was around the age of 20 or so. Aletris didn’t know him. “She should just get married, and her husband will take over, and pass the role down to any sons they have when they’re old enough. Politics and business is not a witch’s place.” Immediately all the women in the room, as well as all the Weasley men, Remus, Sirius and several other men stiffened. Tonks’ hair turned red and Molly’s fist tightened on the wooden spoon she was holding. 

“I’ll show you where my foot’s place is if you say something like that again,” Aletris snarled. 

“Ali!” Molly scolded as Sirius and Tonks cackled and several of the others snickered, including Arthur- and it seemed the headmaster’s lips were twitching. The man flushed and opened his mouth to speak again when Dumbledore raised his hand to silence him. 

“Now now, Mister Dun, Miss Potter, calm yourselves,” he said. The two glared at each other, but stayed silent. The white haired wizard turned back to Sirius and continued. “I admit that it may have been bad judgement not to teach her these things. However, I stand by my choice that she shouldn’t be overwhelmed or pressured in this.” 

“That is not your decision!” Sirius said sharply. “She is now way behind the other heirs her age, and will have a disadvantage when she does come of age, unless she studies extremely hard.” He sighed and turned to Aletris. “Come on, kiddo, we may as well start now. Also, when the kids go to Diagon for their supplies, I’ll be accompanying her so as to take her to withdraw something from a vault.” He directed the last at Dumbledore before turning on the heel of his combat boot and marching out of the kitchen. “Come on, Ali.” 

Her green eyes lit up and she followed him out of the kitchen. They both ignored the almost defeated sigh issued by Dumbledore and continued on to the library as the headmaster commenced with the meeting. 

The duo returned to the library and Sirius walked to a section of bookcases, where he started pulling thick books off, muttering under his breath. He then returned to her and plopped them down heavily on the end table between their previous seats. “Let’s begin with etiquette,” he said, opening the top book. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter  
> WC- 1585  
> Enjoy!  
> Comments, kudos, subscriptions appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER:  
> SOME OF THIS IS DIRECTLY FROM OOTP. I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING IN THE HARRY POTTER FRANCHISE OR ANYTHING OTHER THAN MY MENTAL ILLNESSES! DON'T AT ME!!!

A few days later was her trial and she woke, at half past five, with a jolt, as thoroughly as if someone had shouted in her ear. She rolled out of bed and set to getting dressed. Her chosen outfit was a smart white button up blouse with long sleeves she’d gotten from Hermione, tucked into a high waisted black skirt, borrowed from Ginny, that reached a couple inches above her knees, a pair of knee length white stockings. She wore a pair of heeled mary jane style shoes. Her hair was in a french braid hairstyle. 

* * *

OUTFIT

* * *

She went quietly downstairs, to find that she wasn’t the only one awake. Sirius, Lupin, Mrs. and Mr. Weasley, and Tonks were all sitting at the table when she entered, talking quietly to one another. Mrs. Weasley, wearing a purple quilted dressing gown, jumped up when she entered. 

“Breakfast?” she asked, already moving to the stove. 

“Mornin’,” Tonks mumbled through a tear-jerking yawn. “Sleep okay?” 

“I guess,” she answered. 

“I- I’ve been up all night,” the metamorphmagus said. 

“Porridge? Muffins? Kippers? Bacon and eggs? Toast?” 

“Just — just toast, thanks,” said Aletris softly, sitting down at the table in a chair Tonks pulled out. The woman had knocked down it’s neighbor in the process. 

A plate of toast and marmalade was sat in front of the teen and she picked up a piece, biting into it. It tasted like carpet. 

“You look lovely, Ali,” Mrs. Weasley said, sitting next to her and starting to smooth creases out of her blouse. “Very put together.” 

“Mione thought I’d have a better chance if I looked ‘respectable’, I think she put it,” Aletris said, swallowing the carpet tasting toast. She resisted the urge to push Mrs. Weasley’s hands away from her clothes. 

“She’s right, of course,” the redhead woman said, brushing invisible dirt off Aletris’ shoulders. 

“How are you feeling?” Mr. WEasley said kindly, turning from his conversation with Tonks and Lupin. She shrugged. “It’ll all be over soon. You’ll be cleared in just a few hours.” 

She said nothing. 

“You’ll be fine,” Lupin put in. “The law is on your side. Even underage wizards and witches are allowed to use magic if they’re in danger.” 

“Be polite and respectful. Don’t lose your temper,” Sirius advised abruptly. She nodded. 

A few moments of silence later, Arthur looked at the clock and said, “I think it’s time we leave.” She dropped the toast she’d only taken one bite from and stood, smoothing out her skirt. 

“Good luck!” Tonks said. “It’ll all be over soon!” Aletris smiled- which turned out to be more of a grimace- and nodded, before following the elder redhead male upstairs and down the hall. They heard Sirius’ mum snoring softly from her portrait. They left the house and stepped out into the chilly grey morning. They walked down the street, to the underground station a bit away from Number 12. It was already filled with commuters, and Mr. Weasley looked like a little kid in a toy store as he observed the Muggles going about their daily business. 

They bought their tickets from a sleepy guard, since the automated ticket machines were out of order- Mr. Weasley thought they were “simply fabulous” even so- and Aletris handled the transaction, as the wizard couldn’t quite figure out muggle money. A few minutes later, they were boarding the train that took them to central London; Mr. Weasley kept anxiously checking the Underground map above the windows. “Four stops, Ali. . . three stops left now . . . two stops to go, Aletris. . .” 

They got off at a station in the very heart of London, swept from the train in a tide of besuited men and women carrying briefcases. They took the escalators up, went through the ticket barrier, (Mr. Weasley delighted with the way the stile swallowed his ticket), and emerged onto a broad street lined with imposing-looking buildings, already full of traffic. 

“Now… Where are we?” said Mr. Weasley blankly, looking around, and for one terrifying moment, Aletris thought they must have gotten off at the wrong station, despite Mr. Weasley continuously checking the map; but a quick moment later he said, “Ah yes . . . this way, Ali,” and led her down a side road. 

“Sorry,” the redheaded wizard said, “but I never come by train and it all looks quite different from a Muggle perspective. As a matter of fact, I’ve never even used the visitor’s entrance before.” The farther they walked, the smaller and less imposing the buildings became, until finally they reached a street that contained several rather shabby-looking offices, a pub, and an overflowing dumpster.

Aletris had expected a rather more... impressive location for the Ministry of Magic. 

“Ah! Here we are,” said Mr. Weasley brightly, pointing at an old red telephone box, which was missing several panes of glass and stood before a heavily graffitied wall. “After you, Ali.” He opened the telephone box door. Aletris stepped inside, wondering what on earth this was about. 

Mr. Weasley squeezed himself in beside her and closed the door. It was a tight fit- Aletris was jammed against the telephone apparatus, which was hanging crookedly from the wall as though a vandal had tried to rip it off. Mr. Weasley reached past Aletris for the receiver. 

“Mr. Weasley, I think this might be out of order too,” Aletris said breathlessly; she was a bit claustrophobic. 

“No, no, I’m sure it’s fine,” said Mr. Weasley, holding the receiver above his head and peering at the dial through squinted eyes. “No… Let’s see . . . six . . .” he dialed the number, “Erm, two . . . four . . . and another four . . . and another two . . .” 

As the dial whirred smoothly back into place, a cool female voice sounded inside the telephone box, not from the receiver in Mr. Weasley’s hand, but as loudly and plainly as though an invisible woman were standing right beside them. 

“Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.” 

“Er . . .” said Mr. Weasley, clearly uncertain whether he should talk into the receiver or not; he compromised by holding the mouthpiece to his ear, “Arthur Weasley, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, here to escort Aletris Potter, who has been asked to attend a disciplinary hearing. . . .” 

“Thank you,” said the voice. “Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes.” 

There was a click and a rattle, and Aletris saw something slide out of the metal chute where returned coins usually appeared. She picked it up: It was a square silver badge with _Aletris Potter, Disciplinary Hearing_ on it. She fought back a slight scowl and pinned it to the front of her blouse as the female voice spoke again. “Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium.” 

The floor of the telephone box shuddered. They were sinking slowly into the ground. Aletrsi watched apprehensively and in fascination as the pavement rose up past the glass windows of the telephone box until darkness closed over their heads. Then she could see nothing at all; she could only hear a dull grinding noise as the telephone box made its way down through the earth. After about a minute, though it felt much longer to Aletris, a sliver of golden light illuminated her feet and, widening, rose up her body, until it hit her in the face and she had to blink to stop her eyes from watering. 

“The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day,” said the woman’s voice. Aletris was starting to hate it. 

The door of the telephone box sprang open and Mr. Weasley stepped out of it, followed by Aletris, whose mouth had fallen open. They were standing at one end of a very long and splendid- if a bit gaudy- hall with a highly polished, dark wood floor. The peacock-blue ceiling was inlaid with gleaming golden symbols that were continually moving and changing like some enormous heavenly notice board. The walls on each side were paneled in shiny dark wood and had many gilded fireplaces set into them. Every few seconds a witch or wizard would emerge from one of the left-hand fireplaces with a soft whoosh; on the right-hand side, short queues of wizards were forming before each fireplace, waiting to depart. Halfway down the hall was a fountain. A group of golden statues, larger than life-size, stood in the middle of a circular pool. Tallest of them all was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight up in the air. Grouped around him were a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin, and a house-elf. The last three were all looking adoringly up at the witch and wizard. Glittering jets of water were flying from the ends of the two wands, the point of the centaur’s arrow, the tip of the goblin’s hat, and each of the house-elf’s ears. The whole image made Aletris’ stomach roil unpleasantly in disgust. It was yet another example of the awful way non-humans were viewed in the magical world. 

The tinkling hiss of falling water mixed with the pops and cracks of Apparators and the clatter of footsteps as hundreds of witches and wizards, most of whom were wearing glum, early-morning looks, strode toward a set of golden gates at the far end of the hall. 

“This way,” said Mr. Weasley, directing her into the flow of people, making their way through the Ministry workers. As they passed the fountain Aletris saw silver Sickles and bronze Knuts glinting up at her from the bottom of the pool. A small, smudged sign beside it read:

 _All proceeds from the Fountain of Magical Brethren will be given to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries_

She had the passing thought of putting in ten galleons, if she wasn’t expelled. Her stomach roiled once again at the thought. 

“Over here, Ali,” said Mr. Weasley, and they stepped out of the stream of Ministry employees heading for the golden gates, toward a desk on the left, over which hung a sign saying security. 

A badly shaven wizard in peacock-blue robes looked up as they approached and put down his Daily Prophet. “I’m escorting a visitor,” said Mr. Weasley, gesturing toward Aletris. 

“Step over here,” said the wizard in a bored voice. She walked closer to him and the wizard held up a long golden rod, thin and flexible as a car aerial, and passed it up and down Aletris’ front and back. “Wand,” grunted wizard at Aletris, putting down the golden instrument and holding out his hand. She produced her wand. The wizard dropped it onto a strange brass instrument, which looked something like a set of scales with only one dish. It began to vibrate. A narrow strip of parchment came speeding out of a slit in the base. The wizard tore this off and read the writing upon it. “Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use four years. That correct?” 

“Yes,” said Aletris nervously.

“I keep this,” said the wizard, impaling the slip of parchment on a small brass spike. “You get this back,” he added, thrusting the wand at Aletris. 

“Thank you.” 

“Hang on. . . .” said the wizard slowly. His eyes had darted from the silver visitor’s badge on Aletris’ chest to her forehead, and her scar, which was just covered by her hair. His eyes widened slightly.

“Thank you, Eric,” said Mr. Weasley firmly, and grasping Aletris by the shoulder, he steered her away from the desk and back into the stream of wizards and witches walking through the golden gates. She mentally thanked the man. They made their way to the smaller hall beyond the golden gates, where at least twenty lifts stood behind wrought golden grilles. Aletris and Mr. Weasley joined the crowd around one of them. A big, bearded wizard holding a large cardboard box stood nearby. The box was emitting rasping noises. 

Mr. WEasley and the man with the box had a conversation that Aletris didn’t listen to, as she was too busy worrying about her trial. 

With a great jangling and clattering lift descended in front of them; the golden grille slid back and Aletris and Mr. Weasley moved inside it with the rest of the crowd. She found herself jammed against the back wall of the lift. Several witches and wizards were looking at her curiously; she stared at her feet to avoid catching anyone’s eye, flattening her hair over her scar as she did so. The grilles slid shut with a crash and the lift ascended slowly, chains rattling all the while, while the same cool female voice Aletris had heard in the telephone box rang out again. 

“Level seven, Department of Magical Games and Sports, incorporating the British and Irish Quidditch League Headquarters, Official Gobstones Club, and Ludicrous Patents Office.” The lift doors opened, and she glimpsed an untidy-looking corridor, with various posters of Quidditch teams tacked lopsidedly on the walls; one of the wizards in the lift, who was carrying an armful of broomsticks, extricated himself with difficulty and disappeared quickly down the corridor. The doors closed, the lift went upward again, and the woman’s voice said, “Level six, Department of Magical Transport, incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office, and Apparation Test Center.” Once again the lift doors opened and four or five witches and wizards got out; at the same time, several paper airplanes swooped into the lift. Aletris stared up at them as they flapped idly around above her head; they were a pale violet color and she could see ministry of magic stamped along the edges of their wings. 

“Just Interdepartmental memos,” Mr. Weasley muttered to her. “We used to use owls, but the mess was unbelievable . . . droppings all over the desks . . .” Aletris would have chuckled at that at any other time. They clattered upward again.

“Level five, Department of International Magical Cooperation, incorporating the International Magical Trading Standards Body, the International Magical Office of Law, and the International Confederation of Wizards, British Seats.” When the doors opened, two of the memos zoomed out with a few more witches and wizards, but several more memos zoomed in, so that the light from the lamp in the ceiling flickered and flashed as they darted around it. “Level four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being, and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office, and Pest Advisory Bureau.” 

“ ’S’cuse,” said the wizard carrying the fire-breathing chicken and he left the lift pursued by a little flock of memos. The doors clanged shut yet again. “Level three, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, including the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, Obliviator Headquarters, and Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee.”

Everybody left the lift on this floor except Mr. Weasley, Aletris, and a witch who was reading an extremely long piece of parchment that was trailing on the ground. The remaining memos continued to soar around the lamp as the lift juddered upward again, and then the doors opened and the voice said, “Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services.”

“This is us, Ali,” said Mr. Weasley, and they followed the witch out of the lift into a corridor lined with doors. “My office is on the other side of the floor.”

“Mr. Weasley,” said Aletris as they passed a window through which sunlight was streaming, “we are underground, right?” 

“Yes, we are,” said Mr. Weasley, “those are enchanted windows, see; Magical Maintenance decides what weather we’re getting every day. We had two months of hurricanes last time they were angling for a pay raise. . . . Just round here.” They turned a corner, walked through a pair of heavy oak doors, and emerged in a cluttered, open area divided into cubicles, which were buzzing with talk and laughter. Memos were zooming in and out of cubicles like miniature rockets. A lopsided sign on the nearest cubicle read auror headquarters. Aletris looked through the doorways subtly as they passed. The Aurors had covered their cubicle walls with everything from pictures of wanted wizards and photographs of their families, to posters of their favorite Quidditch teams and articles from the Daily Prophet. A scarlet-robed man with a ponytail longer than Bill’s was sitting with his boots up on his desk, dictating a report to his quill. A little farther along, a witch with a patch over her eye was talking over the top of her cubicle wall to Kingsley Shacklebolt. 

They went on, and finally reached a dead end, where a door on the left stood ajar, revealing a broom cupboard, and a door on the right bore a tarnished brass plaque reading _misuse of muggle artifact_ s. Mr. Weasley’s dingy office seemed to be slightly smaller than the broom cupboard, with two desks that had been crammed inside it; there was barely room to move around them because of all the overflowing filing cabinets lining the walls, on top of which were tottering piles of files. The little wall space available bore witness to Mr. Weasley’s obsessions; there were several posters of cars, including one of a dismantled engine, two illustrations of postboxes he seemed to have cut out of Muggle children’s books, and a diagram showing how to wire a plug. Sitting on top of Mr. Weasley’s overflowing in-tray was an old toaster that was hiccuping in a disconsolate way and a pair of empty leather gloves that were twiddling their thumbs. A photograph of the Weasley family stood beside the in-tray. Aletris noticed that Percy appeared to have walked out of it. 

“We haven’t got a window,” said Mr. Weasley apologetically, taking off his jacket and placing it on the back of his chair. “We’ve asked, but they don’t seem to think we need one. Have a seat, Ali, doesn’t look as if Perkins is in yet.” She squeezed herself into the chair behind Perkins’s desk while Mr. Weasley rifled through the sheaf of parchment on his desk.

They sat in silence for a bit, except for Mr. Weasley muttering about anti-muggle pranksters and, Aletris could have sworn she heard something about regurgitating toilets. 

Suddenly, a stooped, timid-looking old wizard with fluffy white hair entered the room, panting. “Oh Arthur!” he said desperately, without looking at Aletris. “Thank goodness, I didn’t know what to do for the best, whether to wait here for you or not, I’ve just sent an owl to your home but you’ve obviously missed it — an urgent message came ten minutes ago —” 

“I know about the regurgitating toilet,” said Mr. Weasley. 

“No, no, it’s not the toilet, it’s the Potter girl’s hearing — they’ve changed the time and venue — it starts at eight o’clock now and it’s down in old Courtroom Ten —” 

“Down in old — but they told me — Merlin’s beard —” Mr. Weasley looked at his watch, let out a yelp, and leapt from his chair. “Quick, Ali, we should have been there five minutes ago!” 

Perkins flattened himself against the filing cabinets as Mr. Weasley left the office at a run, Aletris on his heels- though it was a bit difficult to run, as she was wearing heels. 

“Why have they changed the time?” Aletris said breathlessly as they flew past the Auror cubicles; people poked out their heads and stared as they went past. Aletris felt as though she had left all her insides back at Perkins’s desk. \

“I’ve no idea, but thank goodness we got here so early, if you’d missed it it would have been catastrophic!” Mr. Weasley skidded to a halt beside the lifts and jabbed impatiently at the down button. “Come ON!” 

The lift clattered into view and they hurried inside. Every time it stopped Mr. Weasley cursed furiously, and pummelled the number nine button. “Those courtrooms haven’t been used in years,” said Mr. Weasley angrily. “I can’t think why they’re doing it down there — unless — but no . . .” 

A plump witch carrying a smoking goblet entered the lift at that moment, and Mr. Weasley did not elaborate as to what he’d been talking about. 

“The Atrium,” said the cool female voice and the golden grilles slid open, showing Aletris a distant glimpse of the golden statues in the fountain. The plump witch got out and a sallow-skinned wizard with a very mournful face got in. 

“Morning, Arthur,” he said in a depressed voice as the lift began to descend. “Don’t often see you down here. . . .” 

“Urgent business, Bode,” said Mr. Weasley, who was bouncing on the balls of his feet and throwing anxious looks over at Aletris. 

“Ah, yes,” said Bode, surveying her unblinkingly. “Of course.” 

She barely had emotion to spare for Bode, but her unfaltering gaze did not make her feel any more comfortable. It made her skin crawl. 

“Department of Mysteries,” said the cool female voice. 

“Quick, Ali,” said Mr. Weasley as the lift doors rattled open, and they sped up a corridor that was quite different from those above. The walls were bare; there were no windows and no doors apart from a plain black one set at the very end of the corridor. She expected them to go through it, but instead Mr. Weasley seized her by the arm and dragged her to the left, where there was an opening leading to a flight of steps. “Down here, down here,” panted Mr. Weasley, taking two steps at a time. Aletris struggled to keep up. “The lift doesn’t even come down this far . . . why they’re doing it there . . .” They reached the bottom of the steps and ran along yet another corridor, which bore a great resemblance to that which led to Snape’s dungeon at Hogwarts, with rough stone walls and torches in brackets. The doors they passed here were heavy wooden ones with iron bolts and keyholes. 

.“Courtroom . . . ten . . . I think . . . we’re nearly . . . yes.”

Mr. Weasley stumbled to a stop outside a grimy dark door with a large iron lock and slumped against the wall, clutching at a stitch in his chest. “Go on,” he panted, pointing his thumb at the door. “Get in there.” 

“Aren’t — aren’t you coming with — ?” 

“No, no, I’m not allowed. Good luck!”

Aletris’ heart was beating a violent tattoo against her throat. She swallowed hard, turned the heavy iron door handle, and stepped inside the courtroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wc- 3739  
> ENJOY!!!  
> COMMENTS, KUDOS, SUBSCRIPTIONS APPRECIATED!!!


	5. Chapter 5

Aletris stepped into the courtroom, and couldn’t stop the gasp that was forced out of her. The large dungeon she had entered was terribly familiar. She had not only seen it before, she had been here before: This was the place she had visited inside Dumbledore’s Pensieve, the place where she had watched the Lestranges sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban. The walls were made of dark stone, dimly lit by torches. Empty benches rose on either side of her , but ahead, in the highest benches of all, were many shadowy figures. They had been talking in low voices, but as the heavy door swung closed behind Aletris an ominous silence fell. 

A cold male voice rang across the courtroom. “You’re late.” 

“Sorry,” said Alretis nervously. “I-I didn’t know the time had changed.” 

“That is not the Wizengamot’s fault,” said the voice. “An owl was sent to you this morning. Take your seat.” 

Aletris dropped her gaze to the chair in the center of the room, the arms of which were covered in chains. She had seen those chains spring to life and bind whoever sat between them. Her footsteps echoed loudly, heels clicking on the stone floor, as she walked across the stone floor. When she sat gingerly on the edge of the chair the chains clinked rather threateningly but did not bind her. Feeling a bit sick to her stomach she looked up at the people seated at the bench above. There were about fifty of them, all, as far as she could see, wearing plum-colored robes with an elaborately worked silver W on the left hand side of the chest and all staring down their noses at her, some with very austere expressions, others with looks of frank curiosity. 

In the very middle of the front row sat Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic.While he often sported a lime-green bowler hat, today he had dispensed with it; he had dispensed too with the indulgent smile he had once worn when he spoke to Aletris . A broad, square-jawed witch with very short gray hair sat on Fudge’s left; she wore a monocle and looked forbidding. On Fudge’s right was another witch, but she was sitting so far back on the bench that her face was in shadow. 

“Very well,” said Fudge. “The accused being present — finally — let us begin. Are you ready?” he called down the row. 

“Yes, sir,” said an eager voice Aletris knew. Ron’s brother Percy was sitting at the very end of the front bench. She looked at Percy, expecting some sign of recognition from him, but none came. Percy’s eyes, behind his horn-rimmed glasses, were fixed on his parchment, a quill poised in his hand. Aletris found she wanted to punch the traitor in his stupid nose. 

“Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August,” said Fudge in a ringing voice, and Percy began taking notes at once, “into offenses committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Aletris Lily Jamie Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley —”

“— Witness for the defense, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,” said a quiet voice from behind Aletris, who turned her head so fast she cricked his neck. Dumbledore was striding serenely across the room wearing long midnight-blue robes and a perfectly calm expression. His long silver beard and hair gleamed in the torchlight as he drew level with Aletris and looked up at Fudge through the half-moon spectacles that rested halfway down his very crooked nose. The members of the Wizengamot were muttering. All eyes were now on Dumbledore. Some looked annoyed, others slightly frightened; two elderly witches in the back row, however, raised their hands and waved in welcome. 

A powerful emotion had risen in Aletris’ chest at the sight of Dumbledore, a fortified, hopeful feeling rather like that which phoenix song gave her. She wanted to catch Dumbledore’s eye, but Dumbledore was not looking her way; he was continuing to look up at the obviously flustered Fudge. 

“Ah,” said Fudge, who looked thoroughly disconcerted. “Dumbledore. Yes. You — er — got our — er — message that the time and — er — place of the hearing had been changed, then?” 

“I must have missed it,” said Dumbledore cheerfully. “However, due to a lucky mistake I arrived at the Ministry three hours early, so no harm done.”

“Not to worry, not to worry,” said Dumbledore pleasantly; he took out his wand, gave it a little flick, and a squashy chintz armchair appeared out of nowhere next to Aletris- who had to roll her lips into her mouth to keep the giggle inside. Dumbledore sat down, put the tips of his long fingers together, and looked at Fudge over them with an expression of polite interest. The Wizengamot was still muttering and fidgeting restlessly; only when Fudge spoke again did they settle down. 

“Yes,” said Fudge again, shuffling his notes. “Well, then. So. The charges. Yes.” He extricated a piece of parchment from the pile before him, took a deep breath, and read. 

“The charges against the accused are as follows: That she did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of her actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on August the second at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offense under paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under section thirteen of the International Confederation of Wizards’ Statute of Secrecy.

“You are Aletris Lily Jamie Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?” Fudge said, glaring at her over the top of his parchment. 

“Yes,” she said. 

“You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?” \

“Yes, but —” 

“And yet you conjured a Patronus on the night of the second of August?” said Fudge. 

“Yes,” said Aletris , “but —” 

“Knowing that you are not permitted to use magic outside school while you are under the age of seventeen?”

“Yes, but —” 

“Knowing that you were in an area full of Muggles?”

“Yes, but —” 

“Fully aware that you were in close proximity to a Muggle at the time? 

“Yes, my cousin. though he already knew about magic before hand,” said Aletris angrily, “and I only used it because we were —”

The witch with the monocle on Fudge’s left cut across him in a booming voice. “You produced a fully fledged Patronus?” 

“Yes ma`am,” said Aletris respectfully, “because —” 

“A corporeal Patronus?” “A — what?” said Aletris.

“Your Patronus had a clearly defined form? I mean to say, it was more than vapor or smoke?” 

“Yes,” she said, feeling both impatient and slightly desperate, “it’s a stag, it’s always a stag.” 

“Always?” boomed Madam Bones. “You have produced a Patronus before now?”

“Yes,” said Aletris, “I’ve been doing it for over a year —” 

“And you are fifteen years old?” “Yes, and —” 

“You learned this at school?”

“Yes, Professor Lupin taught me in my third year, because of the —” 

“Impressive,” said Madam Bones, staring down at her, “a true Patronus at that age . . . very impressive indeed.” Some of the wizards and witches around her were muttering again; a few nodded, but others were frowning and shaking their heads.

“It’s not a question of how impressive the magic was,” said Fudge in a testy voice. “In fact, the more impressive the worse it is, I would have thought, given that the girl did it in plain view of a Muggle!” 

Those who had been frowning now murmured in agreement, but it was the sight of Percy’s sanctimonious little nod that goaded Aletris into speech. “I did it because of the dementors!” she said loudly, before anyone could interrupt her again. She had expected more muttering, but the silence that fell seemed to be somehow denser than before. 

“Dementors?” said Madam Bones after a moment, raising her thick eyebrows so that her monocle looked in danger of falling out. “What do you mean, girl?” 

“I mean there were two dementors down that alleyway and they went for me and my cousin!” She said, relieved to have finally been able to explain herself. 

“Ah,” said Fudge again, smirking unpleasantly as he looked around at the Wizengamot, as though inviting them to share the joke. “Yes. Yes, I thought we’d be hearing something like this.” 

“Dementors in Little Whinging?” Madam Bones said in tones of great surprise. “I don’t understand —” 

“Don’t you, Amelia?” said Fudge, still smirking. “Let me explain. She’s been thinking it through and decided dementors would make a very nice little cover story, very nice indeed. Muggles can’t see dementors, can they, girl? Highly convenient, highly convenient . . . so it’s just your word and no witnesses. . . .” 

“I’m not lying!” said Aletris loudly, over another outbreak of muttering from the court. “There were two of them, coming from opposite ends of the alley, everything went dark and cold and my cousin felt them and ran for it —”

“Enough, enough!” said Fudge with a very supercilious look on his face. “I’m sorry to interrupt what I’m sure would have been a very well-rehearsed story —”

“I CAN PROVIDE YOU MY MEMORIES!” She cried, infuriated. “That is, assuming you have a pensieve. From what I understand, you can tell by the memory if it’s false or not! I’ll take veritaserum or be subjected to a truth spell!” 

Everyone stared at her in surprise, then started muttering amongst themselves. Fudge looked angry and flustered, and she felt smug. She really hated the fat man. 

Dumbledore cleared his throat. The Wizengamot fell silent again. 

“We do, in fact, also have a witness to the presence of dementors in that alleyway,” he said, “other than Dudley Dursley, I mean.” 

Fudge’s plump face seemed to slacken, as though somebody had let air out of it. He stared down at Dumbledore for a moment or two, then, with the appearance of a man pulling himself back together, said, “We haven’t got time to listen to more taradiddles, I’m afraid, Dumbledore. I want this dealt with quickly —” “I may be wrong,” said Dumbledore pleasantly, “but I am sure that under the Wizengamot Charter of Rights, the accused has the right to present witnesses and evidence for his or her case? Isn’t that the policy of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Madam Bones?” he continued, addressing the witch in the monocle. “And memories also count as evidence?” 

“True,” said Madam Bones. “Perfectly true.”

“Oh, very well, very well,” snapped Fudge, looking very angry. “We’ll start with the witness. Where is this person?”

“I brought her with me,” said Dumbledore. “She’s just outside the door. Should I — ?” 

“No — Weasley, you go,” Fudge barked at Percy, who got up at once, hurried down the stone steps from the judge’s balcony, and hastened past Dumbledore and Aletris without glancing at them. A moment later, Percy returned, followed by Mrs. Figg. 

She looked scared and more batty than ever. Aletris wished she had thought to change out of her carpet slippers. Dumbledore stood up and gave Mrs. Figg his chair, conjuring a second one for himself. 

“Full name?” said Fudge loudly, when Mrs. Figg had perched herself nervously on the very edge of her seat. 

“Arabella Doreen Figg,” said Mrs. Figg in her quavery voice. 

“And who exactly are you?” said Fudge, in a bored and lofty voice. 

“I’m a resident of Little Whinging, close to where Aletris Potter lives,” said Mrs. Figg. 

“We have no record of any witch or wizard living in Little Whinging other than Aletris Potter,” said Madam Bones at once. “That situation has always been closely monitored, given . . . given past events.”

“I’m a Squib,” said Mrs. Figg. “So you wouldn’t have me registered, would you?”

“A Squib, eh?” said Fudge, eyeing her suspiciously. “We’ll be checking that. You’ll leave details of your parentage with my assistant, Weasley. Incidentally, can Squibs see dementors?” he added, looking left and right along the bench where he sat. 

“Yes, we can!” said Mrs. Figg indignantly. 

Fudge looked back down at her, his eyebrows raised. “Very well,” he said coolly. “What is your story?” 

“I had gone out to buy cat food from the corner shop at the end of Wisteria Walk, shortly after nine on the evening of the second of August,” gabbled Mrs. Figg at once, as though she had learned what she was saying by heart, “when I heard a disturbance down the alleyway between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. On approaching the mouth of the alleyway I saw dementors running —” 

“Running?” said Madam Bones sharply. “Dementors don’t run, they glide.” 

“That’s what I meant to say,” said Mrs. Figg quickly, patches of pink appearing in her withered cheeks. “Gliding along the alley toward what looked like two teenagers.”

“What did they look like?” said Madam Bones, narrowing her eyes so that the monocle’s edges disappeared into her flesh. 

“Well, one was a very large boy, and the other one rather petite—” 

“No, no,” said Madam Bones impatiently, “the dementors . . . describe them.” 

“Oh,” said Mrs. Figg, the pink flush creeping up her neck now. “They were big. Big and wearing cloaks.” 

Aletris felt a horrible sinking in the pit of his stomach. Whatever Mrs. Figg said to the contrary, it sounded to her as though the most she had ever seen was a picture of a dementor, and a picture could never convey the truth of what these beings were like: the eerie way they moved, hovering inches over the ground, or the rotting smell of them, or that terrible, rattling noise they made as they sucked on the surrounding air . . . A dumpy wizard with a large black mustache in the second row leaned close to his neighbor, a frizzy-haired witch, and whispered something in her ear. She smirked and nodded. 

“Big and wearing cloaks,” repeated Madam Bones coolly, while Fudge snorted derisively. “I see. Anything else?” 

“Yes,” said Mrs. Figg. “I felt them. Everything went cold, and this was a very warm summer’s night, mark you. And I felt . . . as though all happiness had gone from the world . . . and I remembered . . . dreadful things. . . .” 

Her voice shook and died. 

Madam Bones’ eyes widened slightly. Aletris could see red marks under her eyebrow where the monocle had dug into it. “What did the dementors do?” she asked, and Aletris felt a rush of hope. 

“They went for the children,” said Mrs. Figg, her voice stronger and more confident now, the pink flush ebbing away from her face. “One of them had fallen. The other , the girl, was backing away, trying to repel the dementor. That was Ali. She tried twice and produced silver vapor. On the third attempt, she produced a Patronus, which charged down the first dementor and then, with her encouragement, chased away the second from her cousin. And that . . . that was what happened,” Mrs. Figg finished, somewhat lamely. 

Madam Bones looked down at Mrs. Figg in silence; Fudge was not looking at her at all, but fidgeting with his papers. Finally he raised his eyes and said, rather aggressively “That’s what you saw, is it?” 

“That was what happened,” Mrs. Figg repeated. “Very well,” said Fudge. “You may go.”

Mrs. Figg cast a frightened look from Fudge to Dumbledore, then got up and shuffled off toward the door again. Aletris heard it thud shut behind her. 

“Not a very convincing witness,” said Fudge loftily. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Madam Bones in her booming voice. “She certainly described the effects of a dementor attack very accurately. And I can’t imagine why she would say they were there if they weren’t —” 

“But dementors wandering into a Muggle suburb and just _happening_ to come across a wizard?” snorted Fudge. “The odds on that must be very, very long, even Bagman wouldn’t have bet —” 

“Oh, I don’t think any of us believe the dementors were there by coincidence,” said Dumbledore lightly. The witch sitting to the right of Fudge with her face in shadow moved slightly, but everyone else was quite still and silent. 

“And what is that supposed to mean?” asked Fudge icily. 

“It means that I think they were ordered there,” said Dumbledore. 

“I think we might have a record of it if someone had ordered a pair of dementors to go strolling through Little Whinging!” barked Fudge. 

“Not if the dementors are taking orders from someone other than the Ministry of Magic these days,” said Dumbledore calmly. “I have already given you my views on this matter, Cornelius.” 

“Yes, you have,” said Fudge forcefully, “and I have no reason to believe that your views are anything other than bilge, Dumbledore. The dementors remain in place in Azkaban and are doing everything we ask them to.”

“Then,” said Dumbledore, quietly but clearly, “we must ask ourselves why somebody within the Ministry ordered a pair of dementors into that alleyway on the second of August.”

In the complete silence that greeted these words, the witch to the right of Fudge leaned forward so that Aletris saw her for the first time. She thought she looked just like a large, pale toad. She was rather squat with a broad, flabby face, as little neck as Uncle Vernon, and a very wide, slack mouth. Her eyes were large, round, and slightly bulging. Even the little black velvet bow perched on top of her short curly hair put him in mind of a large fly she was about to catch on a

long sticky tongue. 

“The Chair recognizes Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister,” said Fudge.

The witch spoke in a fluttery, girlish, high-pitched voice that took Aletris aback; she had been expecting a croak.

“I’m sure I must have misunderstood you, Professor Dumbledore,” she said with a simper that left her big, round eyes as cold as ever. “So silly of me. But it sounded for a teensy moment as though you were suggesting that the Ministry of Magic had ordered an attack on this girl!” She gave a silvery laugh that made the hairs on the back of Aletris’ neck stand up. 

A few other members of the Wizengamot laughed with her. It could not have been plainer that not one of them was really amused. “If it is true that the dementors are taking orders only from the Ministry of Magic, and it is also true that two dementors attacked Miss Potter and her cousin a week ago, then it follows logically that somebody at the Ministry might have ordered the attacks,” said Dumbledore politely. “Of course, these particular dementors may have been outside Ministry control —” 

“There are no dementors outside Ministry control!” snapped Fudge, who had turned brick red. 

Dumbledore inclined his head in a little bow. “Then undoubtedly the Ministry will be making a full inquiry into why two dementors were so very far from Azkaban and why they attacked without authorization.” 

“It is not for you to decide what the Ministry of Magic does or does not do, Dumbledore!” snapped Fudge, now a shade of magenta of which Uncle Vernon would have been proud. 

“Of course it isn’t,” said Dumbledore mildly. “I was merely expressing my confidence that this matter will not go uninvestigated.” He glanced at Madam Bones, who readjusted her monocle and stared back at him, frowning slightly. 

“I would remind everybody that the behavior of these dementors, if indeed they are not figments of this girl’s imagination, is not the subject of this hearing!” said Fudge. “We are here to examine Aletris Potter’s offenses under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery!”

“Of course we are,” said Dumbledore, “but the presence of dementors in that alleyway is highly relevant. Clause seven of the Decree states that magic may be used before Muggles in exceptional circumstances, and as those exceptional circumstances include situations that threaten the life of the wizard or witch himself, or witches, wizards, or Muggles present at the time of the —” 

“We are familiar with clause seven, thank you very much!” snarled Fudge. 

“Of course you are,” said Dumbledore courteously. “Then we are in agreement that Aletris’ use of the Patronus Charm in these circumstances falls precisely into the category of exceptional circumstances it describes?” 

“If there were dementors, which I doubt —” 

“You have heard from an eyewitness,” Dumbledore interrupted. “If you still doubt her truthfulness, call her back, question her again. I am sure she would not object. And the very subject of this hearing has offered up the memories of the event.” 

“I — that — not —” blustered Fudge, fiddling with the papers before him. “It’s — I want this over with today, Dumbledore!”

“But naturally, you would not care how many times you heard from a witness, if the alternative was a serious miscarriage of justice,” said Dumbledore. 

“Serious miscarriage, my hat!” said Fudge at the top of his voice. “Have you ever bothered to tot up the number of cock-and-bull stories this girl has come out with, Dumbledore, while trying to cover up her flagrant misuse of magic out of school? I suppose you’ve forgotten the Hover Charm she used three years ago —” 

“That wasn’t me, it was a house-elf!” protested Aletris. 

“YOU SEE?” roared Fudge, gesturing flamboyantly in her direction. “A house-elf! In a Muggle house! I ask you —” 

“The house-elf in question is currently in the employ of Hogwarts School,” said Dumbledore. “I can summon him here in an instant to give evidence if you wish.” 

“I — not — I haven’t got time to listen to house-elves! Anyway, that’s not the only — she blew up his aunt, for God’s sake!” Fudge shouted, banging his fist on the judge’s bench and upsetting a bottle of ink. 

“And you very kindly did not press charges on that occasion, accepting, I presume, that even the best wizards cannot always control their emotions,” said Dumbledore calmly, as Fudge attempted to scrub the ink off his notes. 

“And I haven’t even started on what he gets up to at school —”

“— but as the Ministry has no authority to punish Hogwarts students for misdemeanors at school, Aletris’ behavior there is not relevant to this inquiry,” said Dumbledore, politely as ever, but now with a suggestion of coolness behind his words. 

“Oho!” said Fudge. “Not our business what he does at school, eh? You think so?” 

“The Ministry does not have the power to expel Hogwarts students, Cornelius, as I reminded you on the night of the second of August,” said Dumbledore. “Nor does it have the right to confiscate wands until charges have been successfully proven, again, as I reminded you on the night of the second of August. In your admirable haste to ensure that the law is upheld, you appear, inadvertently I am sure, to have overlooked a few laws yourself.” 

“Laws can be changed,” said Fudge savagely. 

“Of course they can,” said Dumbledore, inclining his head. “And you certainly seem to be making many changes, Cornelius. Why, in the few short weeks since I was asked to leave the Wizengamot, it has already become the practice to hold a full criminal trial to deal with a simple matter of underage magic!” A few of the wizards above them shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Fudge turned a slightly deeper shade of puce. The toadlike witch on his right, however, merely gazed at Dumbledore, her face quite expressionless. 

“As far as I am aware, however,” Dumbledore continued, “there is no law yet in place that says this court’s job is to punish Aletris for every bit of magic she has ever performed. She has been charged with a specific offense and she has presented her defense. All she and I can do now is to await your verdict. Unless, of course, you would like to view her memories.” 

He pressed is long fingers together and fell silent. Fudge glared at him, evidently incensed. Aletris glanced sideways at Dumbledore, seeking reassurance; she was not at all sure that Dumbledore was right in telling the Wizengamot, in effect, that it was about time they made a decision. Again, however, Dumbledore seemed oblivious to her attempt to catch his eye. He continued to look up at the benches where the entire Wizengamot had fallen into urgent, whispered conversations. 

“I believe that it would be appropriate to view all evidence of the event. Therefore, I ask that you present your offered memories to the Wizengamot for perusal, Heiress Potter,” Madame Bones said. Aletris nodded. She had a feeling that this woman was on her side, and used her official title as a reminder to the other officials in the room of who they were dealing with. “And, if you concent, I’d like to question you under Veritaserum.” 

“I concent,” Aletris nodded again. 

Professor Dumbledore spoke up again. “As her magical guardian, I give you my permission to question her, as long as she and I are able to approve the questions, please, and none other than the approved inquiries are asked. She lives a very public life and I’m sure there are a few things that she does not want the whole of the wizarding world to know.” 

“Your conditions are acceptable,” Madame Bones nodded sharply. “Aurors, if you will assist in the removal of memories from Miss Potter,” she said, gesturing to the two uniformed Aurors standing near the door. They nodded and approached her.

~~~

Twenty minutes later, her memories had been extracted and the questions being asked her were approved. Dumbledore had asked Madame Bones to add several. They were doing the questioning first. One of the Aurors dosed her with the potion, and her brain blanked, eyes glazing over. 

“State your name,” Madame bones said. 

“Aletris Lily Jamie Potter,” she heard herself say. 

“Who are your parents?” 

“James Fleamont Potter and Lily Charlotte Potter, maiden name Evans.” 

“What is your age and birthdate?” 

“I am 15 years old. Born on 31 July, 1999.” 

“On 2 August, 2014, were you and your cousin attacked by a pair of dementors?” 

“Yes.” 

“Did you cast a fully formed Patronus charm to repel them?” 

“Yes.” 

“On 24 June, 2014, did or did not Cedric Diggory die at the hand of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?” 

“No. He was killed by Peter Pettigrew, who was responsible for conducting the the ritual that brought Voldemort back.” there was an uproar, with people talking over each other, and it took several minutes for Madame Bones to bring the room back in order. 

“Peter Pettigrew is alive?” She resumed the questioning. “How?” 

“He framed my godfather, Sirius Black, for the betrayal of my parents, as well as the murder of himself and 12 Muggles. Pettigrew is an illegal animagus, a rat. My parents made him the real secret keeper, because Sirius believed that he was the obvious choice and so the Death Eaters would come after him. They turned to Pettigrew and he betrayed them to Voldemort, and when my godfather went to confront him, he cut off his own finger, blew up the street, and escaped by transforming into his animagus form.” 

“Why did none of this come out in Mr. Black’s trial?” 

“He was never given one.” This caused even more outrage. A Lord, thrown in jail without a trail? That was a horrible disgrace for the Ministry. 

“So the Dark Lord is truly back?” 

“Yes.” 

That was the last question as the potion started to wear off. Aletris sat in the chair as the Wizengamot went insane around her. Fudge looked like he was trying to choose between vomiting and fainting. Many of the others looked terrified or shocked, or worried. Dumbledore looked pleased. Percy was gaping, pale and sweaty. Ten minutes later, there was order again, though everyone looked shaken. 

Finally, a vote was called for. 

“Those in favor of clearing the accused of all charges?” said Madam Bones’s booming voice. 

Aletris’ head jerked upward from where she’d been staring at the floor. There were hands in the air, many of them . . . more than half! Breathing very fast, she tried to count, but before she could finish Madam Bones had said, “And those in favor of conviction?” 

Fudge raised his hand- it was trembling so badly Aletris worried for a moment he was having a seizure; so did half a dozen others, including the witch on his right and the heavily mustached wizard and the frizzyhaired witch in the second row. Fudge glanced around at them all, looking as though there was something large stuck in his throat, then lowered his own hand. He took two deep breaths and then said, in a voice distorted by suppressed fear and rage, “V-very well, very well . . . cleared of all charges.” 

“Excellent,” said Dumbledore briskly, springing to his feet, pulling out his wand, and causing the two chintz armchairs to vanish. “Well, I must be getting along. Good day to you all.” And without looking once at Aletris, he swept from the dungeon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wc- 4901  
> Kudos, comments, subscriptions appreciated!!!  
> Enjoy!


	6. Chapter 6

Steve was taking out his frustrations on a punching bag. Days after finding out about the new mark, they still didn’t know about where she was, or even who she truly was. He wanted his soulmate with him, wanted to make sure she was okay. If what Fury had said, about finding her would bring danger, they, the Avengers, were not ready to deal with, was true, that meant Steve and Bucky’s fifteen year old soulmate was in the same amount of danger, or even more. 

He didn't know what to do- he still wasn’t used to this new time he was in. The technology, the new science, and the different ways of finding people. He wasn’t sure how to help find her. He couldn’t use computers well and everything was digital- he was pretty sure that was the right word- these days. He couldn’t really, truly help with finding her. He was helpless until Tony, Natasha, and the others found her… or she found them. 

He delivered one final blow and the punching bag swung hard enough that it fell off the chains, skidding across the gym floor, hitting a wall. He growled lightly in frustration, and ran a hand roughly through his cropped hair, turning around. He sighed when he saw Bucky leaning against the door frame. 

“What’s up, Stevie?” Bucky said, straightening up and stepping closer. 

“I’m fine,” the blonde said. 

“You couldn’t ever lie to me, Steve,” Bucky said, raising an eyebrow. 

Steve hesitated and then sighed a second time. He walked to the wall and slid down to the floor, sitting and leaning against the wall and resting his muscled forearms on his knees. Bucky mimicked his movements, sitting beside him. 

“What’s up?” He asked again. 

“I- I’m just upset that I can’t- why can’t we find her? Aletris Potter. This name appeared on our arms for a reason. And I have a feeling it was so that we could protect her. It’s our _job_ to protect her, Buck, and we can’t even find her.” 

“I know, Stevie,” he said softly. “I know. But the others will find her. And we’ll protect her from whatever it is that Fury thinks we can’t handle. Because we may not know her, we may not know who she truly is, or where she is, but we are her soulmates. We are the ones assigned by Fate itself to be her most trusted, the ones she can always turn to. I know it’s hard, but we have to be patient. Because we will find her.” Bucky sounded so confident, Steve had to believe him. 

“I hope you’re right, Buck,” Steve sighed. They both stood when the door opened again and Clint tuck his head in. 

“Hey, super soldiers, Nat and I found filles on Aletris,” he said before ducking back out. The other two followed him out of the room and into the elevator, and they took it up to the conference room. They walked into the large room to find Natasha, Bruce, and Tony. 

“You found something?” Bucky asked as they pulled open the glass door. 

“Yeah. but it’s… strange,” Natasha said, placing a few files in front of ea0ch of them. “I don’t really know what to make of it.” 

Steve picked up the folder in front of him as he sat down next to Natasha. Flipping it open on the table, he picked up the top page, which was a profile on Aletris Lily Jamie Potter. 

\oo/

Aletris was asked to provide memories of both the meeting with Pettigrew and Sirius, as well as about what happened in the graveyard months before. She was then escorted out by an auror while the Wizengamot reviewed her memories. They almost ran into Mr. Weasley, who was standing directly outside the door. 

“Well?” the man said nervously. “Dumbledore didn’t tell me anything. He just left in a hurry.” 

“I’m sorry, Miss Potter, but you’re supposed to be taken directly down to a waiting area,” the Auror interrupted before she could even open her mouth.

“Waiting area?” Mr. Weasley said as Aletris’ arm was gripped and she was manually guided across to the stairs to the ninth level. “What happened?” He started to follow Aletris and the Auror, subtly working his way between the two, removing the grip from her arm as he did so. 

“I’ll tell you in a moment,” she said as they turned at the stairway into a doorway Alretris hadn’t noticed before. Inside were several padded benches and a water pitcher on a wooden table. The Auror let them into the room and then left, closing the door behind them. 

She sat on a bench and Mr. Weasley sat beside her. “So?” He asked anxiously. 

Aletris started to fill him in on what had happened. “So I took the veritaserum, and under it, it came out that Voldemort is truly back, Peter Pettigrew is alive, and Sirius is innocent. If everything works out as hoped, they’ll start preparing for him having returned, I’ll be cleared, the papers will stop slandering my name, and Sirius will get a trial and be proven innocent.” she smiled happily at this, and Mr. Weasley patted her arm. 

“This is marvelous,” he said. “So, what memories did you provide?” 

“I gave ones about the dementor attack the other day, as well as of what happened in the gr- graveyard, and the encounter with Wormtail and Sirius that first time.” She tucked a stray hair behind her ear and wrapped her arms around herself tighter. It was a bit chilly, as they were quite a ways below ground- even with magic, it was bound to be cold. She looked at the man when a warm feeling washed over her. He had his wand out, having cast a warming spell. She smiled her gratitude and relaxed slightly beside him. 

“It was really quite brilliant, that idea to give up your memories and offer to take verita,” Mr. Weasley said with a smile. 

“I’m being taught about the Wizengamot and trial laws,” she whispered as she slipped her feet out of her heels. They were starting to get a bit sore. “I got the idea from the book from the Black library about what defendants’ rights are.” 

“Ah,” he said with an understanding nod. “Are you enjoying your lessons with him?” 

“I am,” she whispered and nodded. “It’s strange that I’ve learnt more about the wizarding world in the last week than I ever knew in the four years I have been a part of it.” 

Mr. Weasley hummed thoughtfully. “That is a bit strange. I still don’t understand what exactly D-” he paused and said, “You know what? We shouldn’t talk about this here.” 

“You’re right. I don’t trust anyone here as far as I could throw them,” Aletris agreed. 

“What?” Mr. Weasley looked confused. 

“It means that… well, I couldn’t physically throw anyone here more than a few inches, right?” Mr. Weasley nodded “Well, the saying means that I don’t even trust the people even as far as I possibly could throw them. It’s a muggle saying.” 

“Fascinating, absolutely fascinating,” he said with awe in his voice. “Tell me about more of these sayings!” 

Aletris chuckled and started doing as asked, telling him about the sayings and explaining what they mean. They were there for about another half hour or so before another Auror came into the room. 

“Miss Potter, the court is ready for you,” the uniformed woman said. “Mr. Weasley, you’ll need to wait here.” 

“Go back to the house, tell the others about what’s going on. I think Snuffles can use a bit of hope right now,” Aletris whispered to him, slipping her feet into her shoes before standing and following the Auror out of the room and down the hall to the courtroom. She took a deep breath before stepping into the room after the Auror opened the heavy door. 

She walked to the middle of the room and sat again in the chained chair, crossing her right leg over her left. 

“Miss Potter, we have reviewed all your memories,” Madame Bones started. “Our conclusion is that they are all true and real. The events all happened as you said they did. Given the circumstances, you are cleared of all charges. We would also like to apologize for the part the… Ministry took in the public slander of your good name.” The stern woman shot a look at the Minister, who’s jaw clenched and nostrils flared. Aletris forced down a snort. “Now, we need to ask some questions. We’ll start with Mr. Black, Mr. Pettigrew and Mr. Lupin and the events of the night in two thousand and thirteen. Alright?” 

She nodded and they began with the first question. 

\oo/

Steve stared at the profile in his hand. “What in the name of....” he trailed off. 

“Magic…” Tony breathed in awe. “It’s real on Earth, not just with the annoying Asgardian gods?” 

On the file of Steve and Bucky’s soulmate held shocking information. The profile read: 

Classification Level Red: TOP SECRET

Aletris Lily Jamie Potter

Age: 15 years

(Witch)

Mother: Lily C. Potter nee Evans

(Witch)

Deceased

Father: James F. Potter

(Wizard) 

Deceased

Godfather: Sirius O. Black 

Age: 35 years

(Wizard)

Heir to: 

Potter Estate

Black Estate

There were a few pictures- moving pictures. One of Aletris, a bit older than the picture they’d found a few days ago. She was standing, grinning, between a girl with bushy brown hair, and a lanky redhead boy with a freckled face who had an arm slung over her shoulders. They were laughing and she looked much happier than the other photo. The next picture was of her, around 12 or so, sitting on the shoulders of two older redheads, identical to each other. They were cheering and laughing, and she was wearing bright yellow leggings, a long sleeve scarlet jumper, brown leather knee high lace-up boots, steel-boned, fingerless gloves, brown goggles pushed up into her windswept black hair, and some sort of sleeveless robe or cloak with an open, knee length skirt and button up torso bit. The twins- for they couldn’t be anything else- were wearing similar clothes, but they held knee and elbow pads, and were holding thick sticks, like bats. All of them, and several of the people in matching clothes from the background were holding… broomsticks. 

There were more photos of her, with other redheads, with the bushy haired girl, and a few other people, most wearing red and gold ties and school uniforms. Then, they came across another picture of her, when she was around 14 or 15, in a lacey silver-white dress with a dark pink sash, sheer lace sleeves, with a knee length front and a long back, which was trailing a bit on the floor.

She was on the arm of a tall, burly, very handsome boy with dark hair and chiseled features and bright grey eyes. Steve and Bucky’s jaws clenched when they saw the beaming smile as she looked up at the boy, and the fondness in her green eyes. They felt a strange urge to hit someone, and if it was that boy their soulmate was looking at like that. 

“Oof, your soulmate looks head over heels for another guy,” Tony said with a snort and a raised brow. Steve and Bucky glared at him, and he cleared his throat looking back at the file. 

“That boy is Cedric Diggory, her boyfriend for several months and apparently, Aletris saw him murdered by someone who wanted to kill her,” Bruce said, looking at a page several ahead of the one she was on.

Everyone sobered up and flipped quickly to the page. Sure enough, there was a picture of him, named Cedric Diggory, and he was murdered by a man, Peter Pettigrew, who worked for someone with the alias Voldemort. “Now I feel guilty about wanting to sock ‘im,” Bucky said as he read the file. “I don’t like feeling guilty.” 

Steve huffed in slight amusement, feeling too worried about his newest soulmate to do anything more at Bucky’s attempt at a joke. 

The next several pages were newspaper reports. The first was a photo of four teens- Aletris, Cedric, a beautiful blonde, and a tall, burly, hook nosed young man. The two females were sitting, while the boys stood behind them. Cedric’s hand was resting lightly on Aletris’ shoulder. They all had ornate sticks in their hands. The headline read “The Four Champions of the Triwizard Tournament: Aletris Potter (The Girl Who Lived) , Hogwarts- Gryffindor; Cedric Diggory, Hogwarts- Hufflepuff; Victor Krum, Durmstrang; Fleur Delacour, Beauxbatons.” The article went on about them, hinting about Aletris being a cheat, an attention seeker, and a myriad of other insults. 

A few others were about them, including one that featured Cedric and Aletris kissing, and then jumping apart when they realized they were being photographed. The article once again slandered Aletris, hinting about her being ‘easy’ and slutty. 

Finally they got to one that showed something that had all their hearts breaking. It was of Aletris, with tears flowing down her face, kneeling over the pale body of Cedric Diggory. An old man with long white hair and a waist length beard hovering over them. There was another man kneeling by them, a devastated look on his face as he ran a hand through the boy’s hair. The article told about Aletris coming into the arena by something called a ‘portkey’, clutching Cedric’s body and claiming Voldemort was back. And once again, there was slander about her, hints that she was making it up and even that she killed him herself. 

“I can’t believe…” Clint started, but trailed off. 

“It’s obvious from her face that she wasn’t the one who killed him,” Tony said. “No one can fake that sadness, especially one her age.” 

They opened another folder, which had the name Voldemort/Tom Marvolo Riddle on it.

“So this Voldemort,” Tony said. “He’s the threat Pirate Boy said we can’t handle?” 

“I’m assuming so,” Natasha said with a nod. “I’ll try to find out more, but right now these files are all I could get. SHIELD is one of the most difficult places I’ve ever stolen from.” 

“Thank you, Natasha,” Steve said. 

“What are teammates for,” she shrugged and stood, leaving the room. That was practically her professing her undying love and loyalty for them. 

\oo/

Hours later, Aletris was released from court. The auror from before escorted her to the waiting area. Mr. Weasley was waiting for her again, doing some paperwork. He stood up when they came in. “Are you done?” He asked. 

“Yeah, we can go,” she said tiredly. Mr. Weasley packed up his quills, parchment and booklets and tucked them under his arm, then lead her out of the room and to the lifts. They took one to the atrium, and as soon as they stepped out of it, they were overcome with the shouting of reporters and the flashing of cameras. 

“Aletris! Aletris! Can you tell me about your encounter with Sirius Black?” 

“Aletris! Is it true Peter Pettigrew is alive?” 

“Aletris! Is You-Know-Who really back?” 

“Aletris!” 

“Aletris!” 

“Aletris!” 

She and Mr. Weasley pushed their way through the reporters, Mr. Weasley with an arm around his charge and helping the shorter girl through the hord. As they made their way to the floos, Aletris stopped at the ridiculous statue and took out her money bag. She turned it upside down and let the many galleons in it fll into the water, before they continued on to the fireplaces. 

Mr. Weasley murmered to her, “Go to the Leaky Cauldron.” He pushed her toward the fireplace and she nodded, grabbing a handful of powder and going into the floo, saying the destination as quietly as possible. She stumbled out the other side and nearly fell, only to catch herself on a nearby table. Right away, the patrons in the pub were looking at her in what they thought was a discreet way, whispering amongst themselves. She sighed and straightened up, trying to ignore the stares and whispers. A few moments later, Mr. Weasley came through as well. 

“Alright, let’s go now, people at home are awaiting the news anxiously,” Mr. Weasley said, leading her out of the pub and into Muggle London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WC- 2720  
> Enjoy!!!


	7. Chapter 7

The team went through the files, and found out more about Voldemort. He was born Tom Marvolo Riddle in 1926 in an orphanage, and when his mother died giving birth to him he grew up there. He scared the other children, and they claimed he did harmful things to them, and years later, in the ‘70’s he emerged as a Dark Wizard named Lord Voldemort. He terrorised the Wizarding World- apparently that was a thing- and killed many, both magical and non-magical, which the witches and wizards apparently called muggles, or no-majs. 

They went through all his terrible feats, and finally reached something that made Steve and Bucky’s hearts stop. Voldemort was finally defeated on October 31st, 2000, when he attacked a family in a tiny village, called Godric’s Hollow. The family was the Potters. He killed the parents- first the father, James, who was found on the stairs, as if he was trying to protect his wife and child- then the mother, Lily, who was found in the baby’s nursery, in front of her cot, seemingly trying to protect the child, Aletris, who was left nearly untouched, only with a superficial wound on her head, in the shape of a lightning bolt. 

“Why is the shape of her wound important?” Tony pondered absently. 

No one answered, and they kept reading. 

The wound was made by something called a Killing Curse, incantation Avada Kedavra, and she was the first and only person in history to survive being hit by the spell. IT backfired onto Voldemort, and he was supposedly killed, and Aletris was hailed a hero, a saviour, the Girl-Who-Lived. October 31st became a huge celebration day, celebrating the fall of the dark lord. 

“What the hell is wrong with this society?” Clint burst out. “They take a baby, who has just been orphaned, name her their hero and saviour and seem to forget that she had just lost her parents, and was shipped off the most likely abusive people, if what you said of the Dursleys was right. And then, every year, she has to see people celebrating the anniversary of her parents’ deaths. Then, they badmouth her over and over in the papers. I’m surprised she hasn’t gone insane yet.” 

Steve glared at the file. “What I don’t understand is how they let their  _ hero _ end up with the Dursleys,” he spat the name like it was something foul on his tongue. And wasn’t it, though? They spoke of his soulmate as if she were scum. 

“Whoever put her there was either incredibly incompetant, or up to something,” Natasha said. “It says it was someone by the name of Albus Dumbledore.” 

“I know that name!” Bruce said suddenly. It was in several of the articles.” They all paged quickly through the first file, to the articles. “He’s the headmaster of the wizarding school in Britain that Aletris attends- Hogwarts.” Bruce held up the article about Cedric’s death and pointed to the long bearded man hovering over Aletris. “That’s him.” 

“So what is the headmaster of a school doing, placing a child in an abusive home?” Clint said, tossing the file onto the table. 

\oo/

Mr. Wealsey and Aletris apparated to the doorstep of Grimmauld Place and discreetly went inside, after Aletris got her insides to stop reeling. They went to the parlour and immediately they were berated with questions. Aletris ignored all of them and ran for her godfather, throwing her arms around his neck. He grunted at the impact but wrapped her in a hug, spinning in a circle, then setting her on her feet again. 

“Not that I don’t love the greeting, but what brought this on?” Sirius said with a grin down at her. “Did you get cleared?” 

“Of all charges, but who cares about that right now? You’re getting a trial!” She said excitedly, bouncing on her toes. 

“I- what?” Sirius stared at her in shock. Everyone had fallen quiet as well. 

“I learnt in your lessons that someone on trial is allowed to submit memories or request to be questioned under veritaserum, so I volunteered to do both, and while under the potion, they asked if Cedric Diggory was killed by Voldemort, and when I said no, they asked who killed him and I said Peter Pettigrew and that led to me telling them, under the most powerful truth potion in existence, that you were innocent and that little rat was the one guilty of betraying my parents, of killing those muggles, and of framing you! Then my memory of that night in the shrieking shack showed I was telling the truth, so now they are agreeing to give you an actual, proper trial!” She grinned up at him. 

“You are amazing, you know that?” Sirius said, sweeping his goddaughter into a hug, lifting her off her feet. “Brilliant, just like your mother.” 

She beamed at him, then was distracted by Mrs. Weasley. “So you got off, then?” She asked anxiously. 

“Yes. I got off,” she said. Mrs. Weasley slumped in relief and wiped her face with an apron. 

“WHOO!” Ginny, the twins, and Ron whooped. 

“I knew you would!” Ron cried, pumping his fist. “You always get away with stuff!” 

“That’s our little sister!” The twins yelled, grabbing her and boosting her onto their shoulders. “A genius! An absolute genius!” 

“Put me down, you hooligans!” She said through her laughter as she tried to make sure her skirt didn’t ride up. They set her back on the ground and Ginny grabbed her hands, making Aletris spin happily with her. Hermione looked like she was about to faint, and was chanting, “thank god, thank god.” 

Aletris removed herself from the middle of the group and watched with a fond smile as her family celebrated her getting cleared of the trumped up charges. She felt a huge amount of relief, not only for herself, but for her beloved godfather. MAybe she’d finally be able to come to live with him after he was cleared. 

Speak of the devil and he’ll toss his arm around your shoulders. Sirius pulled her into his body, kissing the top of her head. “Your parents would be so proud over how you’re handling all this,” he said softly, almost in a whisper. “So proud.” 

Tears sprang up in Aletris’ eyes, and she blinked them away. “I wish they were here,” she confided. 

“So do I, love, every day,” Sirius murmured into her hair. Aletris rested her head on the side of his body and they surveyed the chaos around them until Mrs. Weasley shouted over the noise that a late lunch was ready and told them to head to the dining room. The people staying for the meal filed out of the room, and the Order members that were leaving headed to the door or the floo. 

Aletris sat across from Ron and Hermione, who looked very happy, which was a nice change from the worried and sad looks they’d had for the last week. She hoped that the good that happened today was a sign that things were starting to look up. She really did. 

\oo/

Steve and Bucky sat in the small sitting area connecting their bedrooms and looked over the files again. The team had dispersed after going over the files. Now, Steve and Bucky were looking at the pictures of their soulmate again together. 

Steve looked at the photos of her with the red headed family, who was apparently named the Weasleys, a magical family in Britain. “She looks so much happier with these people than she did in that one photo we found. They look like they’re siblings by the way they act,” he said. 

“I’m glad she has a good family after living with those bastards for so long” Bucky said with a curled lip when he spoke of the Dursleys. 

Steve nodded in agreement and thumbed through a few more photos. After a bit, he huffed an ironic laugh. “She’s a freaking witch.” 

“Of course she is, Stevie,” Bucky snorted. “What, did you expect  _ our  _ soulmate to be a normal person?” 

They both chuckled and Steve shook his head. “I guess not,” he said. 

After a few moments of silence, Bucky spoke again. “So, how are we going to find her if she is part of some secret, untouchable society?” 

“Maybe we should start with Fury. I’m sure he has contacts in the Wizarding World. If we can convince him-” 

“Or threaten him.” 

“To let us use those connections and get in contact with her.” 

“That might work,” Bucky said. “I’m in favor of the threatening part, though.” 

Steve huffed and shook his head. “Of course you are,” he said fondly. “We’ll approach him tomorrow, does that sound good?” 

“Sounds good, Stevie,” Bucky said with a sighing groan as he stretched his legs out and shifted in his seat. 

\oo/

The next morning, the Daily Prophet arrived. Aletris refused to even look at it- it was a matter of principle- until Sirius let out a gasp from behind the paper. She stood and went to look at it over his shoulder, and there was an article about her and the whole trial the day before. It wasn’t by Rita Skeeter for once, instead written by a reporter named Garette Wiles. The article itself was about everything that had come to light during the trial, as well as a quote from the minister;  _ “It is with great regret that I must confirm that the wizard styling himself Lord — well, you know who I mean — is alive and among us again,” said Fudge, looking tired and flustered as he addressed reporters. “We urge the magical population to remain vigilant. The Ministry is currently publishing guides to elementary home and personal defense that will be delivered free to all Wizarding homes within the coming month.”  _ The article also mentioned that Sirius was going to get a trial. 

There was a large picture of the minister standing with Madame Bones and several other Wizengamot officials, which them gave way to a photo of Aletris and Mr. Weasley. They were standing by the atrium and she was dumping the whole of the contents of her coin purse into the fountain. 

“HA! Listen to the caption of the photo of me-  _ Aletris Potter, esteemed Girl-Who-Lived and the honoured heir of two Ancient and Noble Houses, the Potters and the Blacks, giving generously to the funds of the Fountain of Magical Brethren will be given to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.” _ She read off the caption with a laugh, and received incredulous snorts and guffaws of laughter. 

“She’s the  _ esteemed Girl-Who-Lived and an honoured heir  _ again, huh?” Ron said with a sneer. “Just yesterday the bloody prats-” 

“LANGUAGE, RONALD!”

“-were saying you were an attention seeking, show-off maniac.” he continued, ignoring his mother’s interruption. 

“It’s absolutely ridiculous,” Hermione sniffed. “Honestly. The least they could do was issue a redaction and an apology for the horrible things they said about you!” 

“Please, the idiots are too proud to do any such thing,” Sirius snorted into his coffee. “They’ll just go right back to worshipping you and trying to make you their bloody hero. That’s what the bloody bastards always do,” he said bitterly, wrapping an arm around her waist. 

“What is with everyone’s language this morning!?” Mrs. Weasley snapped and pointed a wooden spoon at Sirius. “You watch your mouth around my children or I’ll make you.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Molly,” Sirius said, waving her away and turning back to Aletris. “You know, you should just hex ‘em all and leave it at that.” 

Aletris giggled and shook her head as Sirius jumped up out of his chair and said, “Lesson time!” before dragging her out of the room and to the library. She was glad her godfather was in a better mood, and hoped it was a permanent change. It was nice to see him with hope, knowing he’d be a free man soon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WC- 2000


	8. Chapter 8

Steve and Bucky didn’t even need to ask Fury to come by, the next morning, because he stepped out of the elevator angrily as they were having breakfast. They spotted another agent in the elevator, waiting with a couple boxes. 

“What… the hell were you thinking?” He started through clenched teeth. “Breaking into SHIELD archives, stealing files, files on someone I specifically told you to STAY AWAY FROM!” 

“Nice to see you too, One Eyed Willie. Eggs?” Tony asked, pointing at with his fork to the platter of fried eggs on the table. 

“You BROKE INTO SHIELD!” Fury reiterated. 

“Technically, it was Natasha and Clint,” Tony said through the food in his mouth. 

“Agents Barton and Romanoff, anything to say for yourselves?” Fury growled. 

“We were just doing a favor for our teammates, and besides, you were hiding information about their soulmate from them,” Clint said from the stove, where he was flipping pancakes. 

“It’s classified information,” Fury defended. “You don’t have the clearance to have the information.” 

“It’s about our soulmate, Director Fury, so I think that negates the need for a clearance level, don’t you?” Bucky growled menacingly, stabbing at the pile of pancakes on his plate. 

“I-” 

“Oh, come on,” Tony butted in, rolling his eyes. “You’re going to give us the information anyway, we can literally see your puppet in the elevator with boxes of what I assume are files and things. So let’s just skip past the protests and the big to-do before you give it to us, and you just hand it over now.” 

Fury glared for a few minutes before he sighed and reached into his trench coat, then pulled out a couple thick manilla envelopes, setting them on the table. The agent hefted up the boxes and hurried over with them. He set them on the table beside Steve as Fury sent a glare to the rest of them and turned on his heel, storming out, the agent clearing his throat and following behind quickly. 

"Barton, Romanoff, I expect you in my office at 0930," Fury snapped as he stepped onto the elevator. 

"Yes sir, " they said, Clint grimacing at the thought of the hollering they would be experiencing later that morning. 

"Let's see what is in these envelopes," Tony said, leaning over the table and grabbing the top from beside Steve, who sat across from him. He opened it and pulled out several files, as well as a USB drive. 

Steve stood up and opened the top box and pulled out a couple books. The top was a leather-bound book with no title on the cover. He opened it to the first page, and found the title. He read the title out loud. 

" _ Introduction To The Hidden Magical Society- All You Need To Know About Your Loved One's World. A Guide For The Non-Magical In A Wizard's Life _ "

"That's one hell of a title," Bucky snorted as he looked over the blonde's shoulder. "It sounds helpful though. What are the others?” 

“ _ Magical Culture (Focusing on Each Community and Country), History Of Magic- A Quick Run-Through, Creatures and Other Beings, Spells, Hexes, Jinxes and Curses- Differences and Similarities, Potions and the Ingredients That Give Them Power, Herbology Vs. Botany- Which Is More Useful,  _ and  _ Science When Faced With Magic. _ ” 

“I call dibs on that last one!” Tony shouted, thrusting his hand into the air. 

“The ones about Potions and Herbology sounds interesting,” Bruce commented mildly. 

“Can I see that one on Creatures?” Clint asked as he sat down beside Natasha. 

“The  _ Spells, Hexes, Jinxes and Curses- Differences and Similarities  _ book sounds cool,” Natasha said, swallowing a bite of her peanut butter porridge. 

“How about we all read all of them, starting with the ones that sound most interesting to us,” Steve said with a huff of amusement at his teammate’s antics. “Buck, which do you want to start with?” 

“I think that I’d like to start with the one about the culture,” he replied, knowing that Steve would be most interested in the one on History. Steve nodded and passed the books out, then put the ones without a reader, the  _ Introduction To The Hidden Magical Society _ , back in the box. He set the nearly empty box aside and pulled the other ones closer. They filled with files, and looked as if it was an outline of everyone who was a part of Aletris’ life, from her dead parents, aunt, uncle and cousin, to the Weasley family and her best friend Hermione Granger, and other classmates and teachers at the school she attended. 

“Looks like we have a lot to go through,” Natasha mused, flipping through the book in front of her. 

“We should get started then,” Bruce said. “How about we move this stuff to the living room and look it over there?”

Everyone agreed, so Steve and Bucky grabbed the boxes and Tony the file and they all filed into the large living room, settling down with files and books to study up on the magical world. 

\oo/

Aletris felt a bit better as she pressed a cool cloth to her scar. A bit after they had received the paper that contained the article about Voldemort truly being back, her scar had started burning so badly she’d collapsed, fainting while doing cleaning the parlour with Hermione and Ron. She then spent the day in a dark, silenced room because of the horrible migraine caused by Voldemort’s anger at his outing. She also was wracked with what felt like remnants of a Cruciatus, though she didn’t understand why she felt it outside of her dreams. That was quite unusual. 

She was now out of her room, though, thankfully not in as much pain, though her scar still hurt more than usual. She was studying pureblood wizarding customs with Sirius, right now in the section on social interactions with other heirs, lords and ladies of other Ancient and Noble Houses. 

“Each year, there are social events, such as a Yule Ball and an End Of Summer Banquet and Ball- also known as a Autumn Equinox Celebration-, thrown by the Ministry, that the Lords and Ladies are expected to attend, as well as their Heirs and other children after they receive their soulmarks. There are also others there, such as ministry officials, some decorated aurors, people who have received Orders of Merlin and other awards. They are considered the social events of the year, especially the Yule Ball.” 

“They sound like the kind of things only stuck up purebloods would attend and enjoy,” Aletris said with a wrinkled nose. 

“On the contrary, once you get past the judging of people who think they’re better than you, it’s quite fun. There’s dancing and food and drink, and quite a lot of interesting people to talk to- especially the aurors that don’t think too much of themselves. They have some fascinating stories.” 

“Then there are the parties hosted by the individual Houses. These that are used to make alliances or cultivate relations with one another. It is even used as a starting place for marriage contracts, if two Heirs are soulmates, or they either didn’t get marks by the time they were 20 or the Lord and Lady, and sometimes the Heir himself or herself doesn't approve of the match. Such as if the soulmate is a muggle or muggleborn. These are the ones that, while useful, will bore you to tears and make you want to hex everyone in the vicinity. You have to be careful accepting invitations to these, as they are quite popular with the Death Eaters and their supporting Houses. Though there are Houses, like the Longbottoms, The Greengrasses, The Shacklebolts, Browns, and a few others that are either neutral or Light when it comes to the War and political leanings.” 

“They would really marry their child off to someone else just because their soulmate doesn’t fit into the pureblood category?” Aletris said, appalled. 

“It’s quite awful, but yes,” Sirius said. “My father had a halfblood, with a muggle father and a blood traitor mother, for a soulmate, so his soulmark was covered by his parents. My mother didn’t even have one. It’s part of the reason she was so terrible. She was bitter and angry, and mixed with the Black Madness, that made a less than ideal mother.” 

They sat in silence for a moment, then Sirius continued. “Alliances and relations with other Houses are incredibly important. If you want support on a bill for the Wizengamot to pass, you’ll need allies in others holding seats. Any changes you want to make to the wizarding world, will be made more likely to be passed if you have a strong backing. So, respecting the other House Heads and earning their respect is key. As the heir to two prominent Houses, as well as being who you are, you’ll have a larger advantage, but the other heirs have been learning this since the day they were born.” 

“So basically, study hard and fast if I want to be on equal standing with the others?” She said with a smile. 

“Exactly,” he nodded. “Now, on to your composure, manners, habits, and way of dressing. It is very important in this world that you keep your emotions in check. Don’t let your anger get away from you. If need be, develop a public mask that you wear to keep everything under control. Don’t fall into uncontrollable laughter. Take the Malfoys for example. While they’re choice of putting on a ‘better than thou’ attitude is not the best way to go, you never see them slip into emotional nonsense. That’s part of why they’re so respected, as much as I hate saying it. 

“It’s also important to have good posture. Don’t slouch, shuffle your feet when walking, cross your arms, do anything that will be considered rude. Keep your eyes in front of you, don’t look at your feet. Head up, back straight, shoulders back, arms at your side or holding the arm of a man- because as annoying as it may seem to you, it’s considered disgraceful and bad manners for a man to walk with a woman without offering his arm. Now. Up! Let’s practice.” 

They walked around the large library for hours, Sirius following Aletris around the room, barking things like, “Back straight!” or “Head up!” He eventually set a book on top of her head and told her to walk without it falling. It took her a few tries to make it around the room once. The book kept falling off, hitting her shoulder, or onto the floor with a thump. Thankfully though, she finally got the hang of it. Watching her aunt walk this way everyday and even practice it with a stack of books when Uncle Vernon and Dudley were out helped her. 

“Good!” Sirius crowed when she had walked twice around the room without the book falling off. “Keep practicing, everyday, and I’m going to be reminding you when I see you slipping back into the bad posture. I might even initiate Hermione as my enforcement soldier,” he said with a wink. “Now, come sit and let’s talk about clothes. You’ll need to go shopping, as what you have is not acceptable of someone of your class and wealth.” 

By the time they were called for dinner, Sirius had outlined what was “acceptable of someone of Aletris’ class and wealth”, and made plans to take her shopping as soon as he was pardoned and allowed to roam free. For now, he had just owl-ordered her a whole new wardrobe, taking her preferences into account. She had dresses, skirts, trousers, button ups and t-shirts, and several pairs of shoes on the way. He’d left her with an undergarments catalogue and told her to order good quality things, as he was too embarrassed to order them for her. After asking Mrs. Weasley’s permission, he had them delivered to the Burrow, as they couldn’t deliver to Grimmauld Place because of the Fidelius Charm. The parcels would arrive in a week. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wc- 2009


	9. Chapter 9

A few days later, the school goers received their Hogwarts letters. Aletris was with Sirius in the library again, learning, this time, about proper types of clothes for what type of event or function when Ron, Fred and George came into the room. She had a book on her head to help her with her sitting posture. “Hey Ali, booklists are here,” the youngest redhead said, tossing an envelope to her. He flopped onto an overstuffed armchair to open his as Ali caught hers, the book falling off. She huffed in annoyance; she’d been doing so well. 

She opened it, Sirius looking over her shoulder, and glanced at the customary letter reminding her that the term starts September 1st and that the train left at 11:30 from King’s Cross Station, Platform 9¾. She then looked at the booklist. 

“Only two new books are required this year,” she said as she scanned the list. “ _ The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 _ , by Miranda Goshawk and  _ Defensive Magical Theory _ , by Wilbert Slinkhard.”

“That means Dumbledore has a new Defence teacher,” Fred commented.

“Wonder who it is,” George added as he flopped onto the couch across from Aletris. 

“I just hope it’s someone competent for once this year. Pretty much the only actually good teacher we had for my whole time at Hogwarts was Remus, in third year,” she said with a grimace. She glanced at the youngest male in the room, only to find him gaping at something in his hand. “What’s up with you, Ron?” 

He didn’t answer only mouthed wordlessly, looking quite like a goldfish. 

“What’s the matter?” said Fred impatiently, moving around Ron to look over his shoulder at the parchment. Fred’s mouth fell open too. “Prefect?” he said, staring incredulously at the letter. 

“Prefect?” George leapt forward, seized the envelope in Ron’s other hand, and turned it upside down. Aletris saw something scarlet and gold fall into George’s palm. “No way,” said George in a hushed voice. He sounded strangely horrified. 

“There’s been a mistake,” said Fred, snatching the letter out of Ron’s grasp and holding it up to the light as though checking for a watermark. “No one in their right mind would make Ronniekins a prefect....”

They stared at the letter and badge with a kind of amazed horror, before looking back at Ron. “Prefect . . . ickle Ronnie the prefect . . .” 

“Oh, Mum’s going to throw an absolute pleasure fueled fit,” groaned George, thrusting the prefect badge back at Ron as though it might contaminate him. 

Ron, who still had not said a word, took the badge, stared at it for a moment, and then held it out to Aletris, as though asking mutely for confirmation that it was genuine. She stood and strode over to him, then took it and turned it in her hands. A large P was superimposed on the Gryffindor lion. She had seen a badge just like this on Percy’s chest on her very first day at Hogwarts. 

“Wow, Ron, this is amazing!” She said with a pleased smile at her best friend. 

“Congratulations, mate!” Sirius chimed in. “Making prefect is a big honor.” 

Just then the door burst open and Hermione ran in, looking a bit red and wide eyed, with a huge smile on her face. “I made prefect!” She cried, bouncing on her toes. She then stopped and stared, confused, when she saw the badge in Aletris’ hand. “Did- did they make you one too?” she asked with furrowed brows. “Two girls from one year and house… It’s never been done before!” 

“Oh no!” Aletris said. “It’s Ron’s.” The thrust it back into his hands. 

“R- They made… what…  _ Ron _ ?” She stammered. “Are you sure?” 

She turned red as Ron looked around at her with a defiant expression on his face. “It’s my name on the letter,” he snapped. 

“I didn’t mean.. It’s not…” she stuttered. “Well done then, Ronald. That’s wonderful,” she said with a smile. “Totally…” 

“Unexpected,” Fred offered. 

“I hope you aren’t too disappointed, Ali,” Sirius cut in before Hermione could accidentally insult her friend again. 

“Oh, no, I didn't expect to make Prefect. I cause way too much trouble at Hogwarts,” she laughed. 

“Well, at least we can be proud of one of you,” Fred said seriously, throwing an arm around her shoulders. 

“At least you have your priorities sorted,” George mimicked his twin, tossing an arm over Fred’s on Aletris’ shoulder. 

“I always knew you were my favorite,” Fred added. 

Aletris snorted and elbowed the both of them in the ribs. “Cut it out, you buffoons,” she laughed. 

“You injure us, Aletris!” Fred cried, doubling over as if in great pain. 

“We were just showing out adoration for you and you inflict harm upon our bodies!” George tumbled to the ground, writhing like he was in agony. 

“The betrayal!” They chorused as Aletris giggled and Sirius barked his laughter, Ron rolled his eyes at their antics and Hermione glared at them disapprovingly. 

“She laughs at our pain, brother!” George cried. 

“The cruelty!” Fred moaned. 

Aletris collapsed onto the ground next to them with laughter, and even Hermione cracked a smile as she watched the twins play around. 

“My apologies, good sirs,” she said with mock reverence. “I did not mean to offend.” 

They sat up and leapt at her suddenly, before starting to tickle her lower rib cage, where they knew she was most sensitive. She shrieked with laughter and protests and heard Sirius and Ron laughing as well, and Hermione’s muttered ‘Honestly’. 

“Gerroff!” She said between laughter, trying to push them away and shield her ribs at the same time. They continued tickling her until the scene was interrupted by Mrs. Weasley. 

“Oh, honestly!” She cried loudly. “Boys! Up and off!” 

The twins moved away from her and she let out a relieved sigh, before laughing at their faces of fear of their mother. They stood and helped her up. She smoothed out the pleated, black and white plaid skirt and the long sleeved deep yellow sweater she was wearing and grinned at them, then turned to Ron. 

“Well? Are you going to tell her?” She said, smirking. 

“Tell me what?” Mrs. Weasley said suspiciously. “Ronald?” 

“I- I made prefect,” Ron muttered, standing and showing his mother the badge. 

She stared dumbly at him and the badge, before she let out a shriek and said, “I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it! Oh, Ron, how wonderful! A prefect! That’s everyone in the family!” 

“What are Fred and I, next-door neighbors?” said George indignantly, as his mother pushed him aside and flung her arms around her youngest son. 

“Wait until your father hears! Ron, I’m so proud of you, what wonderful news, you could end up Head Boy just like Bill and Percy, it’s the first step! Oh, what a thing to happen in the middle of all this worry, I’m just thrilled, oh Ronnie —” 

Fred and George were making gagging noises as Mrs. Weasley was gripping Ron’s neck tightly and kissing his face, but Aletris could see that they had been hurt by their mother’s words. Sirius was frowning at Mrs. Weasley as well and Hermione was biting her lip worriedly, eyebrows furrowed. Aletris sighed and stepped closer to the twins. 

“How about you show me your new inventions?” she whispered softly to them. “I’ve not seen what new things you’ve come up with since the end of last year.” 

“Yeah. Sure,” Fred said, pasting a mischievous grin on his face. 

“We’ve made a few cool items since then,” George added. 

“Can’t wait to see them,” she said. “Hey, Pads, I’m going to head off with these two idiots. We’ll continue this later, yes?” She ignored the “Oi!” from Fred and George at being called idiots. 

“Sure, kid,” Sirius said. “Tomorrow.” 

“Okay, tomorrow,” she agreed, going up on her tiptoes to kiss his scruffy cheek before turning and leaving with the twins. 

As they were leaving they heard Mrs Weasley say, “You’ve got to have a reward for such an achievement! What about a nice new set of dress robes?” 

“I- I was wondering if maybe I could get a new broom?” Ron said hesitantly. 

“Oh- um- I-” Mrs. Weasley stuttered. 

“Not a really expensive one!” Ron jumped to clarify. “Just… a new one.” 

“Of course you can. . . . Well, I’d better get going if I’ve got a broom to buy too. I’ll see you all later. . . . Little Ronnie, a prefect! And don’t forget to pack your trunks. . . . A prefect . . . Oh, I’m all of a dither!” 

Aletris, Fred, and George went up to the boys’ room. “Did that bother you two?” She said once she was settled on Fred’s bed. There were scorch marks on the floor, ceiling and walls, as well as what looked like bedding fuzz in the corners. There were a few dents on the walls as well. 

“Did what bother us?” Fred said as he and his brother glanced up from the box they were digging through. 

“What your mum said. About everyone in the family being prefects, when she knows full well you two weren’t.” Aletris said gently. “I know you well enough to see when you’re hiding that you’re upset.” 

The gingers looked at one another for a bit then down at their hands. “It’s fine,” George said. 

“She didn’t mean it like that.” 

“I know, but I’m sure it’s still hurtful.” 

“She’s a good mum, you know she is. Maybe a bit of a joy-kill, but still a good mother.” Fred insisted. 

“Of course. I know full well she’s a wonderful mother. Absolutely.” Aletris nodded. 

“She just gets overwhelmed by the number of us,” Fred continued. “And sometimes, one or two of us are pushed to the wayside when she focuses on another.” 

“It’s not her fault,” George jumped in. 

“Of course not.” Aletris agreed. “But it still hurts?” 

They shrugged and she moved over to sit between them, pulling first Fred, then George, into a hug. “It’s okay, you know, to feel hurt that she said what she did, even though she didn’t mean to say it. It doesn’t make you bad sons or brothers to wish she saw all of you all the time. I understand the way it would make you feel- you love your mum, love your siblings, and know that she loves all of you the same. But… when she says things like that, even as an accident, a mistake, it is perfectly normal for you both to be hurt and upset.” 

The boys looked at each other over her head and then back at her. “When did you get so good at advice, green eyes?” Fred said with a genuine grin. 

“It seems like just yesterday we were the ones with the big-brain advice.” 

“And now, here you are, offering your own to us.” 

“They grow up so fast, don’t they, Gred?” George wiped a fake tear away. 

“They sure do, Forge,” Fred said, throwing an arm over her shoulder. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Aletris rolled her eyes, knowing this was their way of thanking her and telling her she’d helped them. “Now, you said you were going to show me your inventions.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS NOT BASHING MRS. WEASLEY! She made a mistake, and hurt the twins, but parents do that sometimes. She shouldn't have said what she did, but she doesn't love any of them more than the others. I personally know what it's like to feel like the twins do. I'm #7 of 9 kids, and my mom is a single mother. It sometimes feels like she pays more attention to one of my sisters or brothers more so than she does me, but I know that she doesn't mean to and she loves us all as much as the others. It's just hard to pay the equal amount of attention to so many people at once. Mrs. Weasley isn't perfect, she isn't the best mother in the world, and she is definitely flawed, as all humans, but this is not a bashing of her.   
> WC- 1862


End file.
